


King and Lionheart

by seasweaterniall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 80s wolfstar, 90s wolfstar, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Sirius Black, Canonical Character Death, Gay Remus Lupin, Harry Potter was Raised by Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, M/M, POC Potters, Recreational Drug Use, Recreational Wolfsbane Use, Remus Lupin Lives, Sirius Black Lives, Werewolf Remus Lupin, jily still dies y'all, poc Andromeda black Tonks, poc Sirius Black, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:07:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16688833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasweaterniall/pseuds/seasweaterniall
Summary: Harry grows up with stories of his parents. He has his own bedroom, a Padfoot to heal his scraped knees, and a Moony to read him stories at night. Harry grows up never missing a meal. Harry grows up loved.Or, another wolfstar raises Harry AU, snippets from 1980-2002Title from King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men. All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.





	1. Now is the time to Wash Away the Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Remus is alone. James and Lily were murdered in their home, Peter killed in the streets, and Harry left to live with his horrid relatives. And it’s all Sirius’s fault. Or is it? 
> 
> Prologue- winter, 1981 and spring, 1982

Molly Weasley had visited Remus one cold December afternoon out of the blue. She stood wrapped in a scarf, a package tucked under one arm, and a baby in the other. The baby, with a shock of red hair, peered at Remus with wide brown eyes. He had to be at least one years old. Remus felt his chest ache. Harry was one years old. Remus stared dumbly at her in the snowy doorway and realized with a start she looked an awful lot like Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Something about the nose and the lip shape-

 

“Remus Lupin,” she said. Remus then realized they were both cold and hurried aside. He gestured for her to come in and quickly shut the door behind her, trapping the winter outside. Though it wasn’t much different from the temperature inside the tiny, run down cottage. The heat had been shut off a few days ago when he had failed to pay the bill on time.

 

“My, it’s freezing in here!” Molly exclaimed. She set her boy on one of the kitchen chairs and the package on the counter. She undid her own scarf and wrapped it around her son’s neck and tucked it tighter to him. He made a whining sound of protest, but Molly just tutted. “This is Ron, by the way.”

 

“Um.” Remus said in somewhat of a daze. “Um, you’re Molly, right?”

 

“Yes, dear,” she said without looking up. She had begun opening the package and pulling out dishes of food that she set on the stove. The glass clanked against the metal grate.

 

“What- uh,” he cleared his throat. He rubbed his hands together awkwardly and stared on in his own kitchen. He turned to look at Ron, who was naming off all the words he knew and pointing around the kitchen. Molly was making her own noises of confirmation back to her son and encouraging him. She turned back to Remus, a thin smile on her face.

 

“I hope you don’t mind me dropping in here like this,” she said. “It’s just. I had...I was wondering...I assumed you...I mean, after my brothers I-”

 

“Thank you,” he said thickly.

 

Molly nodded and opened his fridge in hopes of finding room to stick the dishes she had made, but instead found it to be bare besides a rotting apple and a jam jar. Molly looked over at Remus, “Why have you no food?” she demanded.

 

“Oh, I uh- I’ve been between jobs. I’m not- I haven’t been hungry,” he mumbled. He could never tell her the reasoning behind living in a cottage that was standing on its last legs and eating enough to survive.

  
“Dear,” she said with just enough pity to create a flicker of irritation in him. “You’re far too thin.”

 

And so, Molly Weasley took it upon herself to visit Remus often to make sure he had enough to eat and he was getting out of bed regularly. There were even times she invited him to The Burrow for dinner. The Burrow was a patchwork quilt of a building, but Remus loved the warm sense of home and Molly’s motherly way of running things in her house reminded him of his own late mother.

 

Remus didn’t let people get close to him. The last time he did that was for his friends, and now two were dead and one was in prison for killing them. He took that as a bit of a sign. He also didn’t want anyone to find out about his lycanthropy, which is why he didn’t particularly like Molly Weasley showing up at his home at random times. What if she stumbled in before or after a transformation? The risk was too dangerous.

 

“Molly,” Remus decided to say one afternoon as she stood in his kitchen making cups of tea for the two of them. She turned her head to look at him with a raised eyebrow and waited for him to continue. Remus felt like his heart was going to break out of his ribcage. “Molly, I- there’s something you should know…”

 

“Yes, what is it, then?” Molly set one of the chipped mugs in front of Remus and wrapped her palms around the one for herself. She had a patient expression mothers reserve for their children, and though Remus should feel patronized, he felt oddly comforted.

 

“I’m...I…” Remus swallowed. He never had to tell anyone before. They had either already known (his parents), or had figured it out and said it for him (Sirius, James, and Peter). But Molly was watching him expectantly, and her unconditional kindness from the past few weeks pushed him to say, “I’m a werewolf, Molly.”

 

The silence was deafening. Molly stared into her mug, but Remus noticed her eyes were slightly wider and her hands shook around the cup, sloshing the tea inside.

 

“Molly- Molly, I promise I’m no danger-” Remus stumbled over his words, his heart beating erratically in his chest. He didn’t move from where he was sitting in fear that he would startle her. He felt light-headed like he would detach from his body at any moment. “Molly-”

 

“I had...a suspicion. You’re ill once a month, but I-” Molly took a deep breath and steadied her hands. “I have never met a werewolf before, mind you. I had been taught all my life that they were monsters.”

 

Remus looked at the table, at the wall, anywhere but Molly.

 

“But you, Remus...you’re no monster,” Molly said with a certainty that made Remus finally look at her. She was meeting his eyes, and he suddenly felt a wave of emotion he hadn’t felt since he was twelve years old and Sirius told him firmly they were still mates. “Monsters are the people who killed my brothers. That is not you, Remus.”

 

-

 

Remus met the rest of Molly’s children eventually. There was Bill, the eldest, who enjoyed the crossword even at such a young age (Remus felt a pang of something he didn’t care to identify when he spotted what the young boy was doing at the long, kitchen table before Molly told him to help set up for tea). Charlie was the second oldest, and he liked telling Remus all about the dragons in his books and showing him the moving pictures of them breathing fire. Percy was a little haughty towards Remus and his siblings but seemed to be the most well mannered Weasley boy out of the bunch, especially compared to the twins Fred and George, who even though barely older than Ron (at almost four years old), were already causing havoc. All the boys were covered in brown freckles and had a mop of red hair. The final Weasley child was only some months old and a girl, Ginny, who shared the looks of her brothers. Of course, there was also Arthur Weasley, who welcomed Remus into his home and chuckled when the boys would excitedly swarm Remus upon arrival, like that night.

 

“Remus! Remus!” a chorus of boys sang as he exited the floo one Spring evening. He smiled at the boys and allowed himself to be led into the kitchen where the smell of a home cooked meal was wafting from. Ginny was in her highchair, cooing excitedly at her brothers’ exclamations. Molly was stood over the stove when she looked over and smiled.

 

“Hello, dear.”

 

“Hullo, Molly,” Remus nodded and sat down.

 

“Remus! Look at our rat!” Fred said, taking a fat, gray, struggling rat from George and holding it up in Remus’s face. “He was in the garden! We found him in the garden!”

 

“It’s not _your_ rat, it’s _my_ rat-” Percy started indignantly.

 

“But Dad said Bill was taking him to Hogwarts when he goes!” Charlie inputted.

 

“His name’s Scabbers,” Bill supplied.

 

“But I-”

 

“ _Boys_.” Molly scolded. They all fell silent in an instant. Fred still held the rat in his hands, but closer to his person. Remus was staring at the rat closely and felt his chest tighten. At that moment, Arthur arrived by floo from his Ministry job and all the boys were distracted again.

 

“Dad!” Bill cried, beginning the pile on Arthur, who dropped his briefcase in order to have available arms for all the Weasley boys. Ron was last, toddling after his brothers and clapping his hands. Remus smiled slightly at the sight, but something was still eating at his brain. Something he should remember. Was he going mad? Finally, he spoke.

 

“Fred,” he said calmly. The boy turned and was at attention. “Fred, may I see your rat?”

 

“Oh, but Mr. Remus, it’s _my_ rat-” Percy said. George pinched him, and then there was a scrabble Arthur had to put to a stop. Fred, though, came forward and put the rat into Remus’s awaiting hands. The rat struggled and squirmed, squeaking violently, but Remus held onto it firmly, steading it thoroughly. His heart beat erratically in his chest when he finally found what he was looking for: the rat was missing a front toe.

 

_All they could find of him was a single finger-_

 

“Remus?” Arthur asked.

 

Remus held the rat by the back of its neck in the air and stood with a purpose.

 

“Hey!” Percy protested, but Arthur put a hand on his son’s shoulder and waited. Remus removed his wand from his trouser pocket and held it up to the rat, the tip aglow with a blueish light from a non-verbal spell. The rat suddenly began to grow rapidly and Remus dropped it to the ground where it was replaced with a snivelling man. Molly gasped.

 

“Peter.” Remus said simply.

 

“Bill, take your siblings upstairs,” Molly ordered. Bill didn’t need to be told twice. He picked up Ginny from her high chair and ushered the rest of his brothers up the creaking staircase. Charlie leaned down to lift Ron into his arms and hurried after the twins. Arthur had his own wand drawn now and was pointing it towards Peter.

 

“R-Remus,” Peter’s voice quivered, hoarse from disuse.  

 

Remus was numb with shock. He grieved for Peter, had mourned him in the way he mourned James and Lily. He had shunned Sirius out of his heart for the deaths of his friends, but in reality the culprit sat in a heap before him. Remus’s innaction gave way to rage, and he was tempted to release it as he rarely did. He held his wand up, surprised by how steady his hand was.

 

“R-Remus please- please-” Peter began sobbing. “You don’t under-understand.”

 

“How-how _could_ you?” Remus snarled. He never let his naked anger see the surface, but this was too much. “James and Lily? And Sirius? And _Harry-_ ”

 

“I didn’t-”

 

“Remus-” Arthur grabbed his forearm to stop him uttering a spell he might regret. “Remus, we need to take him in. I’ll floo for Dumbledore-”

 

Remus couldn’t hear Arthur over the roar of blood in his ears. He couldn’t quite believe a man he once thought of as his best friend, from boyhood who he shared secrets and laughs with, the man he presumed dead, was sat in front of him in a pathetic heap. The pathetic heap that betrayed them all. A gentle but firm hand touched his other arm and pulled him backwards into the chair he had vacated and he let himself be led by Molly. Arthur produced ropes from his wand and bound Peter where he was on the kitchen floor still and hurried to the living room.

 

“Remus, dear,” Molly said. “Remus, you’re pale-”

 

“Sirius is innocent.”

  
  


-

  


Remus was waiting at The Burrow with Molly and her children while Arthur went to the Ministry hearing for Sirius. Remus couldn’t stop pacing the kitchen, even when Molly told him to knock it off with an irritated huff as she tried to feed her children breakfast.

 

Over the shrieks and yelling, Molly turned to where Remus was pulling at his hair and said, “You should eat something.”

 

“I’m not-” Remus gulped and shook his head, but he did stop pacing. Molly gave him a pointed look and then there was a mug of warm tea placed into his cold hands.

“Why don’t you go get some air?” Molly was already giving him a gentle shove towards the back doors and Remus complied like he was on autopilot. He didn’t sleep last night, or the night before when Dumbledore appeared out of the floo with two aurors to drag Peter away. Remus had watched on, hurt and numb, wondering where they all went wrong.

 

Outside, Remus set the mug of tea down on one of the porch chairs and sat down on the backstep. He took a deep breath of the late morning air and tried not to think about Sirius’s trial or what would become of it. Arthur had left early before the sun had risen and had told Remus to stay behind with Molly and the children. Heaving a great sigh, Remus scrubbed his tired face with his hands and tried to still his shaking. He was going to see Sirius again.

 

And what a time this could all happen, he thought wryly as the dull ache of his bones made themselves known the further the morning progressed. That next night he would need to lock himself in his cellar again and wait for the moon to break his bones and take his mind. The anxiety of that day was doing him no favors in means of mental preparation. He noted the sun lazily drifting across the sky as the day moved on, morning to afternoon, until the light outside was golden and cast longer shadows on the trees.

 

Remus heard the back door crack open and Molly said gently, “Remus.”

 

He took a deep breath and stood, turning to face Molly who looked nervous herself. She just nodded at him and turned back into the house. She left the back door open for him to follow her inside. Remus squeezed his hands into fists and released, trying to will them to stop shaking so profusely, and he entered the house. Inside, Arthur was sat at the long kitchen table with a cup of tea and looked exhausted. He noticed Remus at the sound of the door closing behind him and gave him a nod.

 

“Is he-?”

 

“In the front room,” Arthur said.

 

Remus gulped and hurried to the arched doorway of said room. He paused at the doorway once he saw Sirius. He was sitting on one of the couches, having not taken notice of Remus yet, and staring blankly at the floor. Remus’s breath hitched. The last time he saw Sirius, he was angry and lively and full of emotion. This Sirius looked nearly broken with the fight torn out of him. Taking a shaking breath, Remus cleared his throat to speak.

 

Sirius startled and looked up, gray eyes never having changed.

 

“H-Hello,” Remus said dumbly. Sirius scoffed, but he stood and crossed the room in two strides in order to get to Remus. He stopped before him, almost like he was afraid to touch him, and opened his mouth to say something but closed it immediately.

 

“Sirius,” Remus supplied.

 

“God- Remus, I’m- I’m so sorry-” Sirius blurted between his built up sobs. It was like a dam finally breaking. “Moony, I’m-”

 

Remus shook his head and surged forward to wrap his arms around Sirius tightly, burying his face in Sirius’s shoulder, his nose being tickled by Sirius’s hair. All familiar things he thought he had lost. Sirius clutched him just as firmly, his fingers balling up the fabric of Remus’s sweater. It was like they were trying to become one, they were both holding each other like it was the last time. Unspoken words hung in the air, but each knew what the other was thinking. _I’ll never make this mistake again._

 

“Remus, where’s- where’s Harry?” Sirius spoke up finally. He pulled away, sheepishly wiping at his cheeks with the sleeve of his robes, and met Remus’s eyes. They were searching, gray, and accusing. “Do you have him? Dumbledore wouldn’t tell me-”

 

“Sirius…”

 

“Remus, where’s-” Sirius’s voice was growing in volume like it often did when his temper rose. The manic look Remus was familiar with was appearing on Sirius’s features: in his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his eyebrows knit together-

 

“He’s with Petunia,” Remus sighed and waited for the explosion.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. And Together We Will Go (Into the Mystic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dumbledore denies Sirius his right as godfather to raise Harry, he takes matters into his own hands. Or, how Remus got wrapped up in the kidnapping of a one year old. 
> 
> Chapter 2- spring and summer 1982
> 
> title from song "into the mystic" by van morrison

Sirius’s explosion lasted for ten minutes before he demanded to see Dumbledore. After raging and yelling to him in his office (with Remus standing silently behind Sirius and remembering when he himself was raging and yelling at Dumbledore days after Lily and James had died), Sirius paced in front of the fire at Remus’s cottage where it was agreed he would stay until he got himself his own place (actually, Sirius sort of decided that for himself and Remus merely nodded and got out of the way after providing Sirius with a change of clothes). Any other sort of scheming to get Harry back would have to wait, because that night was the full moon and Remus was in no shape to execute any plans Sirius might come up with.

 

“Do you...want company?” Sirius asked as the sun was setting that warm evening. He said it with heavy hesitation, something he only exhibited when Remus was involved. Remus himself was sitting on the couch staring into space when Sirius posed the question.

 

“I’ve managed quite alright, thank you,” Remus decided to say. Sirius rolled his eyes, always hating Remus’s dismissiveness and patience when it came to his own wellbeing.

 

“Is that Lupin-speak for you haven’t completely chewed off one of your limbs yet?” Sirius sneered.

 

Remus scoffed, “Stop acting like a child.”

 

“Stop acting like you don’t matter!” Sirius shot back. Remus’s jumper was long on him, hanging off his thinner frame from his stay at Azkaban. There were ghosts flickering behind his eyes. This was dangerous.

 

Remus stood from the couch slowly and glared at Sirius, “Don’t act like nothing has happened.”

 

“I’m not bloody- are you joking?! I _know_ James and Lily are dead, and Harry is off with that b-”

 

“I meant between us, Sirius,” Remus said. He cupped his forehead in his hand like it would ward off the pounding headache behind his eyes. “You can stay for as long as you need, but please don’t act like you can just turn into Padfoot and everything will be fine. We’re not seventeen anymore.”

 

When Sirius didn’t say anything, Remus left the small living room and started for the basement door.

 

-

 

“Sun’s up, Moony,” a voice broke through the fog in Remus’s brain. It sounded a lot like Sirius, and for a moment Remus thought he was on the floor of the Shrieking Shack and soon James would be there to help him sit up and Peter would hand him his clothes-

 

“Remus, we’ve got a problem,” Sirius said again. This time, the events from the day before made themselves known: Sirius was innocent and staying in his cottage. Peter was guilty, gave away the Potters, and was probably rotting in Azkaban at that moment. Remus blinked his eyes open and saw a blurry dark shape he assumed was Sirius.

 

“Hmm- what’s’t?” Remus mumbled. His jaw ached terribly. The pain came rushing to his brain, then, of all his injuries. His side hurt like he had cracked at least one rib and his leg was definitely probably a little bit broken.

 

“Very eloquently put,” Sirius said. Suddenly there was a warmth at his side and he felt his ribs begin to mend themselves. He gasped and grabbed at his injury, but Sirius batted his hands away impatiently. “Hold still, I’m healing you.”

 

“Not very well,” Remus croaked and closed his eyes.

 

Sirius made an offended noise, “And who was the best at healing spells? Who always patched you up? Right, right... it was _me_ , twat.”  

 

Remus chuckled but it turned into a groan when he jostled his sore ribs. Suddenly there was an arm behind his back and he was being sat up against his wishes. “Ah! No, _Sirius-_ wait-”

 

“I need you up, we’ve got a problem,” he said again, leaning Remus against the wall and stalking to the other side of the basement.

 

“What have you done now?” Remus asked. A bundle of clothes was thrown at his face.

 

“What makes you think I’ve done anything?” Sirius said, his voice rising an octave. Remus leveled him with a look (the look Sirius always referred to as the “prefect stare”) and Sirius sighed, crossing his arms. “Okay, fine, I might have done something that has major consequences. _But_ , in my defense it was the right thing to do.”

 

“What. Did you do?” Remus asked again. He had shrugged on a t-shirt and was now trying to stand so he could put on his trousers. Sirius sighed and came closer to help him balance enough to put on his pants. “I can manage-ugh, fine, thank you.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Anyways, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be. Let’s go upstairs.”

 

-

 

“I think this is actually worse than I’ve made it out to be,” Remus said once they were upstairs in the living room where baby Harry was napping on the couch surrounded by blankets. He looked thin and neglected and Remus’s heart ached with the knowledge that Lily’s relatives had been abusing him this entire time. His rage with Dumbledore increased as he remembered the older wizard explaining how Remus couldn’t take custody of Harry.

 

“Remus,” Sirius said softly as he helped Remus sit on the coffee table across from where Harry was resting. His voice was so full of emotion and vulnerability. “Remus, you should’ve seen how- he was sleeping in a cupboard.”

 

“A cupboard?” Remus whispered, his eyes never leaving Harry’s sleeping form. He cleared his throat and composed himself enough to ask the real questions, “But- so, what did you do? Walk through Petunia’s garden and take him?”

“Along those lines, yes,” Sirius huffed. “I asked to see him, and when I was denied and called a freak, I pointed my wand at Petunia’s walrus of a husband and found Harry under the staircase.”

 

“And took him?”

 

“And took him.” Sirius confirmed. “They didn’t put up much of a fight for him. Speaking of, we should get a move on. This’ll be the first place they’ll check. Are you okay to apparate?”

 

“I’d splinch myself-” Remus caught himself formulating a plan and shook his head. “Wait, wait, no, Sirius. This is mad. Where are we going to go?”

 

“Your- we could- your dad?”

 

Remus scoffed, “Really, my dad?”

 

They were both silent for a moment, before they looked at each other with an expression of realization. At the same time, they said, “Andromeda.”

 

-

 

Sirius still remembered where Andromeda lived from his time as a teenager when he would visit for tea often. It was silent before the crack of apparition disturbed it. Remus, who was still weak from the transformation and had dried blood in his fringe, stumbled forward and placed his hands on his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut until he was absolutely sure he wasn’t about to vomit. His leg and ribs were still aching even after Sirius had healed the bones. He felt Sirius’s hand gentle between his shoulder blades and stood.

 

The house at the end of the cul de sac was quaint looking with a modest garden out front. Sirius, with Harry strapped to his chest under his jacket, began walking up the path and Remus followed. Sirius rang the doorbell, and the two of them waited.

 

After a moment, the door swung open and Andromeda stood with her wand pointed at them. Her gray eyes much like Sirius’s were narrowed dangerously, her long dark hair pinned back, and her features as sharp as ever. “What did I get you for your sixteenth birthday?”

 

“ _A Night at the Opera_ record,” Sirius said. Satisfied, Andromeda turned to Remus.

 

“When I was a prefect, what did I give you detention for your first year?”

 

“Charming the suits of armor to tap dance whenever anyone walked by,” Remus replied. If he thought hard enough, he could remember Andromeda as a seventeen year old when he was eleven. Her features hadn’t changed much, and she had acquired an air of maturity since then. Andromeda smirked a little, but hid it by ducking her head and moving out of the way. She gestured for them to hurry in before she shut the door and locked it. “Sorry, precautions.”

 

“Christ, Sirius-” Andromeda then said and rushed forward to hug him. As she did, Harry made a noise and she jumped back and stared. After a moment, the only thing she could say was, “What.”

 

“I, uh-”

 

“Mum!” a new voice shouted and there was a crash and the loud clomp of heavy footsteps of a child before a girl no older than seven or eight appeared in the front room. She had a shock of pink hair and a missing front tooth. “Mum, my tooth came out!”

 

“Nymphadora, I’ll come see in a moment,” she noticed Nymphadora staring at Sirius and Remus. Nymphadora hurried over to hide behind her Mother’s legs. “Do you remember your cousin Sirius?”

 

“Um, no.” she said. Then, she pointed to Remus, “Why’re you bleeding?”

 

Remus cleared his throat and glanced helplessly at Sirius. Andromeda was also staring at him curiously.

 

“Clumsy, this one,” Sirius said with false bravado and took Harry out of the sling to hold him on his hip. Harry looked around and grabbed onto Remus’s sweater. Remus gently detached Harry’s small hand from his collar and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Harry then started grabbing at Sirius’s hair instead. “Agh-Remus, get him to stop-”

 

Nymphadora giggled at Harry’s antics. Andromeda conjured a teddy bear with her wand and gave it to Harry to occupy his hands before raising an eyebrow, “Explain.”

 

“Anyways, right. Andy. Seems I have...stolen a baby.”

 

“Stolen a- Sirius, that’s called _kidnapping_ ,” Andromeda said, her voice a tad hysterical. “Didn’t you just get _released_ from Azkaban?”

 

“You were in Azkaban?!” Nymphadora gasped, her eyes wide in awe. “Did you do something very bad?”

 

“Nymphadora, why don’t you go play in your room while I talk with Sirius and Remus,” Andromeda said sternly. Nymphadora looked like she wanted to argue, but decided it wasn’t worth it, and left the front room with a huff. “Thank you, love, I’ll be in to see your tooth in a moment.”

 

“My, she’s grown. Last I saw her she was up to my knee,” Sirius said conversationally. Andromeda glared at him and he sighed deeply before handing Harry off to Remus. “Look, Andy, you didn’t see the way they were treating him. They had him living in a cupboard, not properly feeding him-”

 

“A cupboard?” Andromeda sounded astonished. She looked revolted at the thought, “How could anyone do that to a baby? Horrid...those Muggles are horrid.”

 

“They always hated James. For being a wizard and they’ve always been raging racists, I suppose,” Sirius heaved a breath. “And Lily never got on with her sister after she started at Hogwarts. I just couldn’t leave him there with people who hate him, blood magic or not. We’re his family.” he gestured between himself and Remus, and Remus felt a fondness in his chest.

 

“Okay, I won’t tell,” Andromeda said. “But you can’t expect Dumbledore not to notice that The Boy Who Lived is missing.”

 

“That’s why we need a secret keeper.”

 

-

 

Minerva McGonagall knocked thrice on the door to the slumped cottage in the Cheshire countryside. Each knock pierced the quiet atmosphere like a jolt. She waited for a moment, but knew it was fruitless, and she had tried to explain to Dumbledore that Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were not idiots. Maybe a little foolish at times, she mused, but definitely not stupid enough to stay in one place after kidnapping the most important baby to wizard kind.

 

Again, foolish.

 

The crack of apparition startled Minerva out of her thoughts and she instinctively drew her wand towards the intruding noise. Appearing on the walkway behind her were three adults and a baby. Okay, Minerva gave it a final thought, maybe they were idiots after all. Sirius held Harry close, his eyes wide having spotted her, and quickly stepped behind Remus. Remus looked as he did in school when he broke the rules: ready to string lie after lie to get out of it all while wearing a straight face.

 

“Minnie,” Sirius tried to sound suave, but it came out as a croak. “What uh- what a surprise-”

 

“Mr. Black, Mrs. Tonks, Mr. Lupin,” she greeted in her Scottish drawl, her lips pursed. “Just _what_ do you think you’re doing with Harry Potter?”

 

“Minerva, just hear what they have to say-” Andromeda stepped forward, her hands out in front of her like she was presenting an offering. Minerva held her wand steady, still pointed at the three, before she sighed heavily and lowered it back to her side. She peared at them all over her square glasses and shook her head.

 

“You boys will be the death of me yet,” she said. Remus looked relieved. “Well, go on then, invite me in for tea and explain yourselves.”

 

“Of course, Professor,” Remus said. He moved passed her and opened the door to the cottage, holding it open for everyone to enter. Minerva thought she heard a quiet ‘kiss arse’ from Sirius as he passed Remus and her lips quirked in a small smile despite herself. Remus closed the front door and went into the kitchen, where everyone had congregated and began to sit at his very small table. Sirius and Andromeda sat on one side together, Harry on Sirius’s lap, while Minerva took the place on the other side. There was one chair left for Remus, who was flipping on the stove, preparing the kettle, and putting tea bags in chipped mugs.

 

“So,” Minerva folded her hands together on the table and watched Sirius steadily. “You commit a crime as soon as you’re deemed innocent and released from Azkaban, Mr. Black?”

 

“That’s what I said,” Andromeda inputted, sparing a glare in Sirius’s direction. But she sighed and looked towards Minerva. “There were probably many _legal_ ways to go about this, but what’s done is done. They were abusing him, Minerva. No child should grow up in an environment like that.” she put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder when she said this, and Minerva felt a pang in her chest as she remembered Sirius’s home life before he moved in with the Potters.

 

“Tea,” Remus announced nervously as he levitated four mugs with his wand. They gently lowered to the table, but dropped unsteadily and sloshed a bit of tea onto the table. “Oh, I’m sorry-” he began, sitting heavily on the fourth chair. Harry made a small noise and batted at the puddle of tea in front of Sirius.

 

“No worries, Moons,” Sirius said as he gently retracted Harry’s hand from the warm liquid.

 

“How are you feeling, Mr. Lupin?” Minerva asked as she vanished the mess and sipped at her tea. Remus cleared his throat and side glanced at Andromeda.

 

“Erm, fine, thank you,” he said.

 

“I’m not an idiot, Remus,” Andromeda spoke up gently. Remus looked at her before looking at Sirius, who blanched.

 

“I didn’t tell her!”

 

“Ah!” Harry parroted.

 

“Not the point,” Andromeda pressed on. She took Remus’s clammy hand, who had gone very pale, that was resting on the table and gave him a small and reassuring smile. “What are we going to do about Harry?”

 

“I know how horrible the Dursleys are,” Minerva said. “I was one to advocate against leaving Harry with them. I suggested I raise him at Hogwarts, or you, Remus. But Dumbledore wouldn’t hear any of it.”

 

“So…” Sirius prompted.

 

“So, what I’m saying is we are not letting him go back to that house,” Minerva said sternly. “And I’m going to help you execute this poorly planned kidnapping.”

 

“I think it went rather well, actually-” Sirius began, but Andromeda elbowed him in the side and he was cut off with a yelp.

 

-

 

It was decided that Minerva would be the secret keeper of Sirius Black and Harry Potter. Sirius got his own flat in London, a small two bedroom place, for him and Harry. Remus and Andromeda knew of their location, and Remus was allowed to visit as often as he liked.

 

Minerva was made the secret keeper so as they would be hidden from Dumbledore and anyone else who wished to cause Harry harm.

Remus stood at the window of the flat, looking down at the bustling life bellow in the late afternoon. There were boxes piled around the flat since Sirius had gotten his stuff back from where it was stored in Remus’s attic (“They gave it to me after you were arrested, and I couldn’t throw it away. No matter how much I hated you at the time.”).

 

“What’s in your head, Moony?”

 

Remus smiled sadly and turned to Sirius, who was holding Harry at his hip, and shrugged, “Just thinking.”

 

“That’s dangerous.”

 

Remus rolled his eyes. He sighed, “You’re really doing this, Padfoot?”

 

Sirius hesitated, but then replied, “I was sort of hoping _we_ were really doing this. Together.”

 

“I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me,” Remus said.

 

“Forever it is, then.”

  



	3. Then You Can Start (to Make it Better)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry can’t sleep and Remus is the one to calm him down. 
> 
> Chapter 3- winter, 1982
> 
> title from song "hey jude" by the beatles

Remus didn’t know how to handle Harry all on his own. Before, he only held Harry if he absolutely had to. James thought it was particularly funny to leave a napping Harry on Remus’s chest if he had fallen asleep on the couch. He would wake up to see the baby making soft sleep noises with his cheek squished against Remus’s chest. Lily would be in standing with her muggle camera with a small smile on her face, her red hair halo-ed by the orange kitchen light. A brightness in the dark expansion of war. Sirius has been good with Harry since the boy was brought into this world in the smallest hours of July’s last day. Remus supposed that of course he would be, no matter how hesitant he was before, because that was just how Sirius was. He dove headfirst into anything and learned along the way. The polar opposite to Remus’s assess first if given the chance. 

 

But here he was, alone on a Sunday night in Sirius’s flat with the fresh wounds of loss numbing at his heart, with a baby that wouldn’t stop crying. Fat, globby, baby tears were tracking their way down Harry’s round cheeks. Sometimes he would stop and stare at Remus before bursting into tears all over again. Remus was beginning to panic. He paced in front of the couch where he had set the screaming toddler and tugged at his greying hair. Sirius had left earlier that evening, after Harry had been put down, without a word to Remus. Harry had, of course, woken up in the middle of the night because he never slept soundly anymore. Remus was chewing at his thumbnail, trying to come up with options that would calm Harry. 

 

“Mamamama-” he still cried, even though it had been well over a year. Sometimes he would still call for Lily, never for James anymore.  

 

“Oh, Harry,” Remus gulped, his heart wrenching in his chest. He made his way to the couch and lifted Harry into his arms. Harry squirmed, but Remus just held him closer to his chest until Harry lay his head down on his shoulder, still crying. “Oh, I know.” 

 

“Oh, trust me, Harry, I know,” Remus whispered, rubbing his hand gently along Harry’s back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. He swayed side to side, something he distinctly remembered Lily doing when Harry was fussy. They would never leave him. The year had changed seasons four times, and still he felt like his heart was made of lead. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I know.” 

 

Harry hiccupped, but let out another loud wail into Remus’s shoulder. He felt his sweater becoming damp with tears and slobber from Harry. A thought suddenly struck Remus. Something that he hadn’t thought about in many years, but it was there nonetheless in the back of his mind waiting to be remembered. A woman with Remus’s nose and gentle eyes stroking his hair after the swollen moon in the sky had taken his mind. She hummed a tune, singing it gently to only him when he was inconsolable. 

 

“Hey, Jude,” Remus sang, but his voice cracked and failed him. He cleared his throat and tried again, “ _ Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad _ .” 

 

“ _ Take a sad song, and make it better _ .” 

 

Remus couldn’t sing very well. Not like Lily could late at night with the record spinning in the living room. James would watch her like she hung the stars in the sky. Sirius would sing along, carrying the tunes he had learned from friends playing them over and over. It was Remus and Lily who introduced the boys to The Beatles. It would then be James who hummed their songs in the common room while he scribbled away at an essay due their next class and Sirius who claimed Lennon was overrated. 

 

“ _ Remember to let her under your skin _ ,” Remus continued. “ _ Then you’ll begin to make it better _ .” 

 

Harry’s wails were reduced to sniffles as he stared into space. His eyelids drooped while Remus continued humming the tune to  _ Hey Jude _ and swaying back and forth, hoping it was at least a little soothing to the toddler. If Remus closed his eyes, he could pretend it was late at the Potter Manor, before they went into hiding. But then the Muggle heater in Sirius’s flat made a clicking noise as it started up and the only humming wasn’t that of magic but from Remus himself as he continued his spur of the moment lullaby. The warm hand on his arm startled him back to reality, where he was indeed in Sirius’s flat on a Sunday night with a sleeping toddler in his arms. 

 

“Moony,” Sirius whispered. He was still wearing the gloves he used when riding his motorbike. In his other hand was the shopping bag with a half-gallon of milk and a pack of cigarettes. Groceries. “Remus, you look a bit mad. What’re you humming?” 

 

“I-I didn’t hear you come in,” Remus said barely audible. 

 

“Here, put Harry down and sit,” Sirius said. His voice had a clipped edge to it, as it always did when deciding what was best for Harry. Remus stood, numb, as the baby was taken from his arms and replaced with the shopping bag. Remus watched Sirius take Harry into the spare room that had been hastily turned into a nursery for Harry. He returned a moment later, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and studying Remus. 

 

“I’ll...I should go-” 

 

“Just stay,” Sirius said. “You’re here nearly all the time anyways.” he finished the sentence sheepishly, like a shy child waiting for approval. 

 

“Sirius-”

 

“Remus, just stay.” 

 

“We can’t just... _ go back _ -” 

 

“Think of Harry,” Sirius cut him off, gray eyes like steel. “I can’t...I can’t  _ do _ this without you, Remus.” 

 

Remus ran a hand over his face and his body heaved with a shaky sigh. It would be easy, he thought, to fall back into him. “God, Sirius.” 

 

Sirius grinned and reached to take the shopping bag from Remus’s clammy hand. He tossed it onto the couch and closed the space between them. Remus sucked in a breath and felt his chest tighten. If he closed his eyes, he could hear Sirius spitting vile things at him and pushing him away. Away. Away. Remus could remember his own replies, full of venom and aimed to kill. 

 

“I don’t…”  _ trust you.  _ Remus wasn’t ready to hash open the wound Sirius caused, to be ripped open and have his insides and soul scooped out like a melon’s flesh. He wasn’t ready for Sirius to take him apart piece by piece and assemble him back together in all the wrong ways. 

 

Sirius took Remus’s fingers and squeezed them gently, “We can take our time.” 

 

Time. James and Lily thought they had time, Remus thought bitterly.  _ We all thought we had infinite time _ . But just one room over was a toddler who would grow up without the parents that were supposed to raise him. Without the father to teach him how to fly a broom or the mother to kiss his forehead. They didn’t have enough time to take. Every moment could be cut short with a blinding green light or a throat full of blood-

 

“Remus.” 

 

He took a deep breath, and said with a wave of finality, “I’ll stay.” 

  
  
  
  
  



	4. Alone (I Fight These Animals)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares still plague their minds and live in the shadows. Peacetime isn’t about the sun shining and ridding their minds of the darkest corners, but it is about healing. And that they can do together. 
> 
> Summer- 1983
> 
> title from song "six weeks" by of monsters and men

That summer was hot. It was sticky in an inescapable way, even with the windows cracked, there was just stagnant unmoving air that hung heavily in Sirius’s London flat Remus had moved into months previously. Remus didn’t often sleep. He would hear Sirius’s deep breathing and small sleep sounds he had grown accustomed to over the years, a baby between them (who couldn’t sleep through the night anymore), but he himself could not rest his eyes without seeing bloody teeth and feeling claws on his throat. He found himself jerking awake in cold sweats when he had managed to drift off, the sheets tangled around his legs, and Sirius beside him, watching in the dark. Remus knew Sirius didn’t sleep soundly, and most nights he would scream until Remus shook him from the remnants of Azkaban. Then they’d spend the night trying to get Harry to calm back down.  

 

“I wasn’t even there long,” Sirius commented hollowly one morning over coffee (for him and Remus) and Coco Pops (for Harry). “A few months?”

 

“Sirius,” Remus shook his head. “A night with the dementors is enough to turn the most sane man mad.”

 

Harry made a sound of agreement while he munched on the dry cereal, and both men looked over in anticipation. They waited for him to make more than a noise, to utter the words of his small, previous, vocabulary. Because a nearly three year old should be able to speak, not just mumble and cry. When that was all Harry offered, Sirius heaved a sigh full of grief and downed the rest of his coffee that had began to grow cold.

 

Harry wasn’t speaking like he used to when his parents were alive. Remus remembered before, when Harry would call Lily “Mama” and James “Da”, but he stopped calling for them months ago. He was able to say Padfoot and Moony and juice and so many other jumbled words as his brain developed. Harry didn’t like to be left alone and slept fitfully in the bed with Remus and Sirius. He would wake in the small hours of the night with a whimper and then a cry if one of their nightmares didn’t wake him up first, and Remus would already be there ready to rock him back to sleep.

 

Sometimes, Remus dreamt of screaming at the moon and Sirius’s fists bloodying his face. The war damaged a part of them, something black and void that could never truly heal. There was too much death, mistrust, and devastation to come back the happy school boys from Hogwarts.  

 

“What’re you thinking of?” Sirius asked. They were both leaning out the window in the living room sharing a cigarette while Harry napped on the couch. It was half smoked. The light was fading with the sunset gleaming through the smog, the sounds of the city roaring four stories bellow.

 

“I’m thinking,” Remus began, plucking the cigarette from Sirius’s nimble fingers with his index and thumb. He took a long drag and took his time blowing it between his lips into the orange light. “I’m thinking I feel as though I’ve lived for eighty years as opposed to twenty-three.”

 

Sirius scoffed, “Oh, a poet you are.”

 

Remus allowed himself a wry smile and took another drag. His Welsh accent was thick when he was relaxed, the childhood in green fields and cold ocean creeping into his voice. “I feel trapped here.”

 

“That’s parenthood, I guess,” Sirius said with a dry chuckle lacking any humor to it, but Remus could hear the hurt in his voice.

 

“Not- no, Pads, I mean...maybe we should move. Somewhere...away from the city,” Remus amended. “You know I love Harry more than I’ve ever loved anything. And you-” he cut himself off, not willing or not wanting to finish the sentence. Maybe both.

 

“And me, what?” Sirius pressed.

 

“Nothing, Padfoot.”

 

Rarely did Sirius pick his battles, but then he decided it wasn’t worth ruining the small moment of peace between them. He glanced back at the couch where Harry was bundled in the maroon quilt Mrs. Potter had knit James as a baby and his lips quirked up in a small, sad smile.

 

“Perhaps you’re right,” Sirius said, taking the cigarette back and flicking the ash off the end. He took a pensive drag. “Where, then?”

 

“I dunno.”

 

“We’ll need to let Minnie know,” Sirius said.

 

“Yes, I suppose we do.”

 

The answer came to them in the form of an owl with a letter attached to it. The owl irritably nipped at Remus’s fingers, as they had his whole life (animals never took to him, for obvious reasons), and flew away before waiting for a reply. Remus recognized the handwriting on the muggle envelope and stared at it for a few moments before he carefully tore open the flap. Remus knew it was from his father already as he unfolded the parchment and read the slanted writing from his childhood. It was a short and concise letter (he and his father didn’t speak much after Hope Lupin had passed) about how Lyall was moving from Remus’s childhood home, and did he want it? He heard Sirius humming Killer Queen down the hall and then singing a bit of the lyrics.

 

“She’s a killa queeeen- What’s that?” Sirius cut himself off as he came into the kitchen with a groggy Harry resting his small head on Sirius’s shoulder. Remus sighed deeply and reread the letter again before setting it on the tiny table between them. Sirius frowned, but maneuvered Harry to his other side in order to reach for the letter and bring it closer to his face to read. Remus had caught him many times using his reading glasses to read the Prophet in the mornings sometimes. Maybe they would get Sirius a pair eventually. They weren’t that old, were they?

 

“Oh,” Sirius decided after he had finished reading. “I...are you going to respond?”  

 

“And say…?” Remus prompted.

 

“Well,” Sirius shrugged. “You did want to move.”

  
  


-

  
  


It was pouring rain when they arrived at the cottage a week later with their belongings from Sirius’s flat. Lyall Lupin had things packed away in boxes, and it was strange to Remus to see his childhood reduced to containers pushed against walls. Lyall opened the door and greeted the two of them with a tentative smile.

 

“Hello, son,” he said at last. He patted Remus on the shoulder and let them into the house. He closed the front door, cutting off the music the rain made as it fell upon various objects outside.

 

“Hi, Da,” Remus said. Sirius had Harry bundled up and under his jacket to protect from the rain. Now that they were inside, he removed Harry and let the boy look around the house with his curious eyes from where he rested on Sirius’s hip.

 

“Oh,” Lyall smiled and held his hand out for Harry to latch onto with a little smile of his own. “This is...your friend James’s boy?”

 

“Yes.” Remus muttered. He moved from the tiny entryway to the living room. The family pictures were all taken down and there were outlined squares in the paint from where they had hung for years. They were now placed on top of boxes, moving and static photos of Remus as a boy. Of Lyall and Hope. Remus picked up one of he and his mother when he was quite small, before he was bitten, of them laughing in the garden. Lyall had taken it with a wizard camera, so the two figures of the past were smiling and moving about in the dirt, forever caught in a loop.

 

“Ha, little Moony,” Sirius said. Harry poked the glass of the frame with his finger, curious to see the figures moving. “How cute.”

 

Remus flushed red and put the picture down.

 

“Well, there’s a bedroom for Harry and the master for...one of you to take,” Lyall went on. “There’s the basement for you, Remus, of course.”

 

“Right,” Remus said. “I did live here for most of my life.”

 

“No need for cheek,” Lyall scolded lightly.

 

Sirius snickered, “No cheek, Lupin.” Remus shoved his shoulder lightly with an eye roll.

 

“How...how have the moons been, son? Where have you been going?” Lyall asked. It was clear he still worried about Remus, but whatever bond they had had when Remus was a teenager was severed and awkward with the passing of his mother when Remus was seventeen. Remus didn’t resent his father, but there was a sizable gap between them after he learned the truth about how he was bitten.

 

“Um, fine. They’ve been fine,” he said. He couldn’t tell his father that his mate Sirius Black was an unregistered animagus and they aparated to a secluded bit of wood to run about every full moon and left the baby with Andromeda Tonks or Molly Weasley. No, instead, Remus shrugged and said, “I’ve been able to use the Shack.”

 

“Oh,” Lyall nodded, as if he approved. Remus knew he did approve, and Lyall would have a heart attack right there if he knew the truth; if he knew that while Remus was in school from the age of fifteen and on that his friends took him running in the Forbidden Forest. “That’s...all good and well.”

 

“Yes,” Remus said again.

 

Lyall left later that evening with all the boxes he hadn’t put in the attic with a crack of disapparation. Minerva would be arriving the next morning to perform the Fidelius spell again on the cottage. And for Sirius and Remus, they found themselves smoking out of the window once again. Remus had offered Sirius a wink as he removed a loose floorboard in his old bedroom and dug around until he located a small baggie (“And you were made prefect? Please.”). Harry was in Remus’s childhood bedroom, sleeping in the transfigured bed since everything was still packed away, and Sirius and Remus sat by the window of Remus’s parent’s old bedroom. It was pushed open, and the cool air felt fresh against Remus’s skin as he passed a joint back and forth with Sirius.

 

“You’re da’s...odd, yeah?” Sirius finally broke the silence.

 

Remus raised an eyebrow and scoffed. He took the joint back and lit the tip with his muggle lighter. Sirius was watching him with a soft look on his face, the expression Remus often caught him wearing, but he ignored it and tucked it into the back of his mind where all things regarding his deeper feelings for Sirius lived.

 

“I s’pose,” Remus said. “He’s...been through a lot.”

 

“So have you, Remus,” Sirius said in a defensive tone.

 

Remus was quiet for a moment before shrugging, “How d’you like it here, then?”

 

“S’wet,” Sirius replied, “I can see how you turned out to be a piece of soggy toast, growing up in The Middle of Nowhere, Wales.” He accepted the joint back from Remus to take a long drag. He coughed a bit and Remus allowed himself to laugh. “Christ, haven’t done this since seventh year, at least.”

 

“Sound like an old man, you,” Remus grinned.

 

Sirius’s smile was sad, “Might as well be.” Remus sobered and stared out at the dying light. It was still lightly raining over the grassy fields. He felt nostalgic, remembering being a child and staring out and wondering if there was any more to life than green hills and full moons. “Do you still feel trapped, Moony?”

 

Remus’s lips quirked up in the corners. He let Sirius finish the joint and replied, “Not as much anymore, no.”

 

That night, Remus and Sirius fell asleep curled up on the floor in a pile of blankets besides the bed Harry rested in, and all of them slept through the night.

 


	5. And I'm Still in Love with You (on This Harvest Moon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings from days before make themselves known, though they had never really vanished in the first place. Harry likes to play in the muddy garden and track it into the house, but that’s nothing a quick scourgify can’t fix. 
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 3 - spring, 1984
> 
> title from song "harvest moon" by neil young

Remus’s laugh drove Sirius mad. If he made Remus laugh, or smile, he felt like he had accomplished something great, but there was an ache that seemed to permanently live in his chest. He wanted to run his thumb over Remus’s bottom lip before he pressed a kiss there, but whatever they thought they could have before was shattered the moment the war drove a divet between them. 

 

That morning, Remus was laughing at a rather racy joke Sirius made about that Umbridge lady who kept putting out those rubbish anti-werewolf laws. Sirius knew when Remus let his emotions out of the jar he kept them crammed in that it was only in front of him (it used to extend to James and Peter). Sirius felt like he was privy to something truly rare and special when this happened.

 

“You’re starring, Sirius,” Remus said as he stood to make more coffee. The back door was open to let in the fresh air the night’s rainstorm had brought, and so they could keep an eye on Harry as he stomped about in the mud. Remus had showed Harry books about gardening that used to belong to Hope, and so now the four year old thought slinging mud about the back steps would grow tomatoes. 

 

“Am I?” Sirius asked in fake bewilderment. He knew he was staring, but he had just never been caught before. At least, Remus had never told him he had been caught before. Sirius peered into his mug where the bitter coffee grounds from this morning’s cup remained and gnawed on his bottom lip. “So what if I am?” 

 

Remus, back still turned to Sirius as he busied himself making another brew of coffee, merely shrugged and fidgeted with the lid of the jar they kept their unbrewed coffee grounds in. He glanced outside to watch Harry playing in the mud for a moment before breathing in deeply through his mouth and releasing it out his nose. 

 

“We’re well past all that, is what I mean,” Remus said finally. Quietly. 

 

“‘All that’?” Sirius pressed, suddenly annoyed with Remus’s vagueness. Sirius could see one side of Remus’s face because he turned to watch Harry out the backdoor. It was the side of his face with the white scar that stretched from his jaw to the bridge of his nose, cutting through freckled flesh. He could also see that Remus rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything more on the matter. 

 

“Harry?” Remus called. There was a giggle and another splatter of mud on the back porch step before a little boy covered in dirt appeared at the threshold. Remus stifled a smile by biting his bottom lip. Harry’s pair of overalls and his t-shirt were dotted with muddy stains and his hands caked with it as well. “Have you done the gardening, then?” 

 

“Yeah!” Harry crowed. He grinned and held out his hands to show Remus and Sirius the mud. “I’m gardening like Moony’s mum!” 

 

Sirius couldn’t help the grin of his own that spread across his face. Harry began opening up and talking again shortly after they had moved to Wales. They would read him books and encourage him to make up his own stories to go with the pictures in hopes he would speak again. With time, Harry started saying words and small sentences. He was still quiet for a child of four years old, but it was more than Remus or Sirius could hope for. Both of them had no idea what to do but wish and try what they thought was the right thing to do. Barely adults themselves without knowing they would have to raise a child so young, all they could do was offer Harry all of their love and shelter and pray it would be enough. 

 

“So you are, Sprog. What’re you going to grow?” Sirius asked. 

 

“Tomatoes! Potatoes!” Harry said in a sing-song voice. He went to step into the house, but Remus made a negative noise and reached for his wand. Harry froze, looking between Remus and Sirius like someone caught in the act. Sirius was distinctly reminded of an eleven year old James Potter staring wide-eyed and innocently at a stern Professor McGonagall. 

 

“One moment, Harry, you’re all dirty,” Remus said, wand now in hand. He cast a silent  _ scourgify _ and then gestured for Harry to come inside. Harry, who was always fascinated with magic, laughed and patted at his now clean clothes. 

 

“When will my plants grow?” Harry asked as he climbed onto one of the kitchen chairs next to Sirius. He reached for Sirius’s mug, but the latter pulled it away before he could grab ahold of it. 

 

“Nice try,” Sirius said. Harry jutted out his bottom lip for a moment before turning back to Remus for an answer. Harry was curious and ready to learn all he could. Remus was running out of books to share with him. 

 

“They’ll grow a bit after you’ve planted them in the ground, Harry,” Remus explained. He brought over the newly brewed pot of coffee and poured Sirius another cup as well as himself before setting it back on the counter. 

 

“Can I have some?” Harry asked, pointing to Sirius’s cup of coffee. 

 

“How about some juice before you hit the hard stuff, eh, Haz?” Sirius said. 

  
  
  
  


-

  
  
  
  


“Do you think...do you think Harry would be scared of me?” Remus asked in a soft voice from where he was sitting on the couch. Harry was taking a nap after falling asleep on the back porch step. He had insisted he wasn’t tired, but only a few minutes later Remus and Sirius found him dozing in the early afternoon, covered in mud once again. 

 

“What’re you talking about?” Sirius asked. He was across from Remus on the floor, using the coffee table as a desk, finishing the cross word from this morning. He was wearing Remus’s reading glasses and had ink from the Muggle pen on his fingers. “What’s a four letter word for the ship that the Argonauts sailed on to find the golden fleece?” 

 

“ _ Argo _ ,” Remus replied instantly. “Sirius, I’m…” 

 

“Talking rubbish,” Sirius cut him off as he filled in the blanks. “Ah, it does fit, thank you.” 

 

He took off Remus’s glasses after he finished writing and gave Remus his full attention. “Harry loves you, Remus. You’re his Moony. He’s not going to stop wanting you to tuck him into bed if you tell him you’re a werewolf. He probably doesn’t even know what a werewolf is. Did you, when you were his age?” 

 

Remus scoffed, “I did, unfortunately. That’s why we’re having this conversation.” 

 

“Alright, sorry,” Sirius apologized. He stood up and moved so that he was sitting next to Remus. Remus stared at his hands. “All I’m saying is...Harry isn’t going to stop loving you as much as he does.” 

 

“Maybe you’re right,” Remus shrugged. 

 

“Of course I am,” Sirius grinned. “I always am.” 

 

Remus leveled him with a look, “ _ Always _ is a stretch.” 

 

They stayed like that for a moment of silence, both looking at each other and the small distance feeling like miles. Sirius’s heart was beating hard against his ribcage and he longed to reach out to Remus, but he remained still. He swallowed as Remus moved his face closer to Sirius’s so they were inches apart. 

 

“I don’t want to ruin this by admitting to what I want,” Remus whispered finally. 

 

“What do you want, Remus?”

 

“Moony? Padfoot?” a soft, sleep ridden voice called from the hallway. Remus sprung away from Sirius and stood abruptly from the couch to see what Harry wanted. Sirius sighed, closed his eyes,  and fell back against the cushions. 

 

“Pa’foot, what happened?” Harry asked. Remus was carrying him over to the couch on his hip. Harry became especially cuddly after taking a nap when he was still sleep groggy and wanted to be held. Remus sat back down with Harry on his lap and the four year old watched Sirius with hooded green eyes as he waited for an answer. “You need a nap, too?” 

 

Sirius chuckled, “Maybe I do.” 

 

“You can nap and Moony and me will watch telly,” Harry declared, pointing towards the small television they kept in the cottage. Mostly, they put on VHS tapes of Disney movies for Harry if they ever watched anything. That was mainly for the days after full moons to keep Harry occupied with an activity that Remus could keep up with. 

 

“Oh, we will, will we?” Remus smiled. 

 

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said in a tone that had Sirius belly laughing. Eventually, they put in  _ The Jungle Book _ to watch and waste away the rest of the afternoon. Harry giggled at all the silly things that the cartoon characters did, and Sirius snuck glances at Remus. It was like those years back at Hogwarts all over again, he thought, before they kissed late one night in the empty Astronomy Tower on a new moon. War and corruption had changed those boys. It had stretched them out and made Remus fuzzy and beige, with sharper edges, and a bigger jar for all those feelings to stay sealed up in. Sirius didn’t come out unscathed, either, but he knew the way he felt about Remus would never waver. 

 

Remus looked over at Sirius and smiled. It looked hopeful. 

  
  



	6. Hold On (to Each Other)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A close encounter with the past makes Sirius and Remus realize how important family really is. Harry wonders about where Remus goes every month. 
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 5 - summer, 1985
> 
> title from the song “june” by florence and the machine

“Harry, have you got everything?” Remus called down the hallway to the bedroom. He took a patient sip from the mug of tea he was holding as he waited for the recently turned five year old to answer him. He knew Sirius would be home soon from the Ministry to take Harry over to the Weasley’s, and then he could finally lay down before he had to lock himself in the basement. Sirius had promised Kingsley, head auror on the case, that he would help his team with their ongoing investigation of remaining Death Eaters, considering he was related to a majority of the ones who hadn't been locked up yet. There in the kitchen, Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, not wanting to think about what the ache in his bones meant just yet. He focused on the warmth from the mug to the palms of his hands and the sound of quick footsteps on the floor. 

 

“Yeah, Moony!” Harry’s little voice replied. Soon, he appeared in the kitchen where Remus was standing with his backpack stuffed and zipped shut. Remus raised his eyebrow at the backpack, but Harry stood his ground. 

 

“Let’s see what you’ve packed, then,” he said. Harry looked defeated, but unzipped his backpack nonetheless. Inside, instead of things like clothes and Harry’s blanket, the backpack was at full of Harry’s plushies. “Haz, you haven’t got anything to wear. Where’s your toothbrush?” 

 

“But I won’t have any room for Snuffles,” Harry protested, gesturing to the black dog plushie Remus currently held in his hand. Remus hid an amused smile by taking another drink of his tea. He set down the mug on the counter and grabbed his wand from his back trouser pocket. He muttered an expanding charm on the backpack and put Harry’s stuffies back into the bag. Harry’s green eyes were wide and curious, like someone else he used to know. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind again, he handed the bag back to Harry. 

 

“Now, please go pack the pajamas Padfoot picked out for you and your toothbrush,” Remus said. Harry did as he was told and went racing out of the kitchen back down the hallway. With a heavy sigh, Remus looked at his watch and furrowed his brow. It was seven in the evening, and Sirius was usually home before then. Chalking it up to he just got a bit busy, Remus downed the rest of his tea in one gulp and grimaced at the mouthful of dredges he got for his troubles. He had an uneasy feeling about Sirius being late, but at that moment he couldn’t dwell on “what if’s”. 

 

“Are you ready now, Harry?” 

 

“Yeah, Moony!” Harry called again. 

 

“Okay, then, looks like I’m taking you to the Weasley’s,” Remus said. He ushered Harry towards the fireplace. Harry peered up at him curiously but waited patiently for Remus to grab the floo powder from where it was kept in a small blue vase on the mantle. 

 

“Where’s Padfoot?” Harry asked. “Are you ill again?” 

 

“Padfoot is a little late, but I’m sure he’s fine,” Remus said. Something cold and familiar coiled in his stomach and suddenly he was a teenager again and Sirius was late returning to headquarters. “He’s fine.” 

 

“Okay,” Harry said. Remus shook his head and stepped into the fireplace and waited for Harry to step in beside him before shouting The Burrow’s address and tossing the powder at their feet. Usually, floo travel wasn’t Remus’s favorite form of getting places, and this close to the impending moon rise didn’t make matters better. Harry stumbled out on his feet onto Molly’s living room rug and was already running to find Ron while Remus had to bend over and catch his breath. His tension headache made him far dizzier and he had to clutch the mantle. His hand knocked over one of the picture frames that crowded the small shelf space. 

 

“Remus?” Molly was at his side suddenly. “What are you doing here? Where’s Sirius?” 

 

Remuss stood up straighter and made to fix the photograph he had accidentally pushed over with shaking hands, but Molly waved at him and did it herself before giving him with a stern look. “Where is Sirius? Why aren’t you resting?” 

 

“I-he’s not back yet,” Remus managed. The panic was catching up to him, and as he tried to push it back down it made it worse. “He’s still- he should have been back a while ago-” 

 

“Remus, please,” Molly gripped his arm. “Calm down. Say goodbye to Harry and go get some rest. Sirius is fine.” 

 

Remus gulped, but nodded, “Right-right, okay. Right, I’m sorry-” 

 

“None of that,” Molly said, before calling over her shoulder, “Harry, dear!” 

 

Harry came peeling back into the living room with Ron and little Ginny on his heels. The youngest Weasley offered Remus a small wave from where she stood shyly behind her brother, her other hand clutching the back of his t-shirt. 

 

Remus waved back to her, “Hello, Ginny and Ron.” 

 

“Hi, Mr. Remus,” Ron said. 

 

“Say goodbye, dear,” Molly said to Harry. Remus knelt down on one knee and Harry rushed into his arms to hug him as tightly as he could. Remus inhaled deeply and tried to calm himself down. 

 

“Goodbye, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

 

“Be careful, Moony,” Harry said quietly as he pulled away. Remus stared at Harry a moment in astonishment before running a hand through his black, messy hair. Green eyes always so ernest. 

 

“I’ll try my best, Harry.” 

  
  


-

  
  


When Remus arrived back to the cottage, he missed landing on his feet and fell to his knees. He felt the naeusa rise up and he dry heaved with his hands planted on the old, wood floor. He shuddered and checked his watch again, and he sighed when he realized he had nearly a half an hour before moonrise. Remus rose clumsily to his feet and listened hard to the silence of the cottage. 

  
“Sirius?” he called. When the man in question failed to reply, Remus ran his fingers through his graying hair and pulled. His head pounded both from the impending moonrise and stress about Sirius’s wellbeing. He told himself he was being ridiculous, and that Sirius was free to do as he pleased. But on a full moon, Sirius never shirked responsibility. Especially where Harry was concerned. 

 

“No good waiting around, I suppose.” Remus mumbled to himself. He was already feeling poised to leap out of his skin. With one final sigh, Remus headed towards the basement door down the hall and reluctantly pulled it open. He took out his wand and began reciting his usual wards and silencing spells on the door before turning and descending the rest of the way down the stairs. The basement was dark and cold with a dampness that still hung in the air since Remus was a child. Remus reached overhead and tugged on the string to the single light bulb, knowing it’s place by habit now, and the basement flooded with a dim, yellow light. 

 

Remus slowly began to remove his clothing, per routine, and folded them before placing the pile under the stairs with his wand on top. He moved to stand in the middle of the room, bare feet numb on the cold ground and skin covered in goosebumps from the chill and impending change. His skin itched. He shifted from foot to foot as he stood in the middle of the basement. Waiting. Usually, Sirius was there to distract him. In his absence, Remus began counting under his breath for lack of anything else to do. 

 

“One, two...three, four-” He ground his teeth together and dug his blunt fingernails into the spaces between his ribs. “F-five...six, seven, eight, nine-  _ ah _ , ten-”

 

Remus let out a cry of pain and doubled over suddenly. He barely made it to twelve when the moon rose and took his mind with it. 

 

-

 

Remus woke up groggily in a cloud of pain. Everything sounded like he was hearing it from underwater for a moment before he blinked and looked up at Sirius’s worried face. 

 

“-mus?” Sirius was saying. “Christ, Moony-” 

 

“Wh..hmm…” Remus’s head lolled back against his wishes and he knew he was about to faint. 

 

-

 

When Remus awoke a second time, he was propped up in bed with his arm wrapped and in a sling and every bone in his body aflame with pain. He groaned lowly and blinked his eyes open but shut them almost immediately. Someone had opened the blinds and the sun was too bright for his pounding head. He hummed in displeasure. 

 

“Morning, Darling,” a voice said. Remus groaned again and forced his eyes open to see the blurry form of Sirius sitting at the edge of the bed next to his hip. Remus had to blink several times as his vision came into focus and his head began to feel less like cotton. He took in Sirius’s appearance: rumpled clothes from yesterday, a dark stain on his robes (Sirius had griped and moaned about wearing robes, but Remus said that since he was going to the Ministry, he could not show up in a Sex Pistols t-shirt) that looked...suspiciously like blood...

 

“Your head-” Remus rasped, staring at the giant cut across Sirius’s forehead. He then began coughing and Sirius reached for the bedside table to grab the glass of water next to the cup of tea there and offer it to Remus. Remus took it and drank, waiting for a response.

 

Sirius scoffed and took the glass back, “Your arm is literally broken and you’re worried about this papercut?” Sirius then noticed Remus’s worried and angry expression and sobered with a sigh. 

 

“S’not-  _ ah- _ funny,” Remus hissed between his scolding when he tried to move, wincing at the deep ache in his ribs. 

 

“Idiot, stay down,” Sirius rolled his eyes. Remus complied with little fight, but he didn’t take his eyes off of Sirius as he waited for an explanation for the cut on his head and why he was late last night. As much as people called him irresponsible, Sirius was never late for the things he cared about. “I just...ran into some old acquaintances from the war.” 

 

“Who?” Remus asked. 

 

“Well, Remus, if you remember anything about Death Eaters from the war, the bloody cowards wear hoods and masks-” 

 

“ _ Sirius _ , this isn’t funny,” Remus snapped. “You could have- what would happen if- I mean, Harry would be-” 

 

“Okay, calm down,” Sirius put a hand on Remus’s chest. “Just rest for now, okay? We’ll talk about this-” 

 

“We’ll talk about it now!” Remus said in a raised voice. He tried sitting up again and let out a small shout at being jostled. “Okay...okay, maybe- maybe not  _ right _ now-” 

 

“Can you just relax?” Sirius said, barely masking his irritation. He reached for the tea cup and pushed it into Remus’s hands. “Everyone’s fine. Drink this.” 

 

“You’re not fine-” Remus started. He took the cup and savored the warmth the ceramic mug gave his hand before taking a drink. It tasted slightly different and strange, but he didn’t give it any deep thought (he could hear Mad Eye’s scolding voice in the back of his head). 

 

“I  _ am _ fine,” Sirius insisted, pushing the cup so Remus would drink faster. Remus pushed Sirius away with his uninjured hand and stopped drinking, but the damage had already been done. Sirius took the mug of half drunken tea back and set it on the nightstand. Remus could feel his limbs getting heavier and his body giving into its exhaustion. Realization dawned on him, then. 

 

“You slipped dreamless sleep potion into that, didn’t you, you bastard?” 

 

“Bastards are born out of wedlock, and as you know, Moony, bastards are drowned at birth in The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black,” He said in an exaggerated posh accent. He pursed his lips and patted Remus’s uninjured arm. “I knew you’d be all worked up. Just try and rest, alright? We’ll talk about it when you wake.” 

 

“Not that you’ve given me a fucking choice,” Remus grumbled, but he couldn’t fight his drooping eyelids and soon he was asleep. 

  
  


-

 

“Why is Moony ill again?” 

 

Remus stirred in his sleep. He felt like his body was made of lead and his head filled with molasses. The voices in the hallway sounded like they were coming from miles away. Blinking his eyes slowly open, Remus noticed by the little light streaming through the window that it must be late evening by now. So Sirius had gone to get Harry already. 

 

“He just gets ill sometimes, Haz,” Sirius was saying. “But he’s fine. Just needs some rest every once in awhile.” 

 

“Like when I was ill once and had snot all in my nose?” 

 

Remus grinned sleepily at that, sat up in bed, and let out a low grown. Sirius, behind the door, chuckled and said, “Not quite, Harry.” 

 

“Can we give him soup now so he will feel better?” 

 

“Alright,” Sirius said. From the tone of his voice, it sounded like he had been holding Harry off for as long as he possibly could. “But you’ve got to be quiet.” 

 

“As a mouse!” Harry said, and then before there could be any protests, the bedroom door opened and in came Harry himself. There was a bowl of soup that sloshed around as Harry walked as carefully as he could over to Remus’s side of the bed. 

 

“You’re awake!” Harry exclaimed. Remus winced at the volume but masked it with a tired smile. 

 

“I am,” he agreed, though he still felt lethargic and sore. “How was your stay with the Weasley’s?” 

 

Sirius took the bowl from Harry’s hands and placed it on the bedside table before it could be spilled, because Harry then launched into a detailed story of their quidditch game the older Weasley boys played complete with reenactments (both men were reminded of a boy they once knew). Since it was summer, Bill and Charlie were back from Hogwarts with exciting tales about the castle for their siblings and Harry. 

 

“Charlie is bestest friends with Dora! From Mrs. and Mr. Tonk’s house! She came over, too!” Harry said. “And Dora and Bill and Charlie and Fred and George flew up on their brooms but Mrs. Weasley said Ron and Ginny and me couldn’t.” 

 

“I’d have to agree with her there, Harry,” Remus said. 

 

“Maybe next year when you’re older we’ll get you on a broom,” Sirius added, ignoring Remus’s sideways glance and sitting next to him on the bed. “Did you watch the others play, then?” 

 

“Yeah! And Ron and Ginny and me played quidditch on the ground with a quaffle. Percy didn’t want to play he was reading his big book he said he needed to for when he goes to Hogwarts…” Harry rambled on. He suddenly adopted a concerned expression on his face ( _ Lily _ , Remus thought with a pang), and pointed to Remus’s arm that was still in the sling. “Are you okay, Moony?” 

 

“Of course, Harry,” Remus said. He reached out for Harry and the boy gently moved so he was sitting in between Remus and Sirius. “Um. Well, as you know, sometimes I get ill.” 

 

“I maked soup for you,” Harry deadpanned and pointed to the bedside table like it was the cure for all things.  

 

“Made,” Remus said automatically with a  small chuckle. “But, uh, Harry. It’s not like when you get ill and Padfoot gives you that potion you don’t like and you’re all better.” 

 

He took a deep breath. He could feel how tense Sirius was beside him. Harry was looking up at him waiting for him to continue. 

 

“Yes, well, when I was...smaller than you,” Remus began. “When I was smaller than you, I became very ill. It’s only once a month, and my body changes...into a wolf. It’s called lycanthropy.  It...isn’t fun, which is why I stay in bed all day sometimes.” 

 

“Moony needs to be lazy once in awhile,” Sirius said while tugging gently at a lock of Harry’s hair. But Harry paid it no mind and was staring intently at Remus. 

 

“It makes you hurt?” Harry asked softly. He was pointing at Remus’s arm. 

 

“Sometimes, yes,” Remus nodded. Harry looked on the verge of tears, and it broke Remus’s heart. He looked up to Sirius for help, who pulled Harry quickly onto his lap. 

 

“Hey, hey, sprog, look at me,” Sirius said. Harry wiped clumsily at his face but looked up at Sirius nonetheless. “Moony is okay. He just needs to rest up every month so he can get back to being our Moons, yeah?” 

 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. 

 

“I’m okay, Harry,” Remus assured him. 

 

“Okay,” Harry said. 

 

“And we need you to promise that you won’t tell anybody,” Sirius added. “It’s our special family secret.” 

 

“I promise,” Harry nodded solemnly. 

 

-

  
  


The gash on Sirius’s head was reduced to an angry, pink, line across his forehead by the next morning. No amount of healing spells or potions could fully get rid of it, and it was probably a result of dark magic. Remus had tried to bring it up last night, but Sirius refused to talk about it until Remus cornered him in the kitchen that morning while Harry was out picking the ripe tomatoes in the garden (“Only the ones that are red, Harry. No green ones.”). 

 

“I didn’t appreciate you drugging me last night,” Remus said. 

 

Sirius scoffed, “Oh, don’t be-” 

 

“Sirius, do you even- can you even comprehend how much we need you? What if something happened-” Remus began. He set his tea cup down harshly on the counter and turned to face Sirius, who was sitting at the small table. 

 

“Yes, well, I’m fine, so,” Sirius said in a placid tone. He was pretending to read  _ The Prophet _ . Remus could tell because his eyes hadn’t moved from the horoscopes page since they started talking. “There’s nothing to worry about. They just jumped me when I left the Ministry. Didn’t even know who it was.” 

 

“Sirius,” Remus was losing his patience. Sirius always knew which buttons to press. “If something were to happen to you-”

 

“Well nothing did!” Sirius exploded. He stood from the table, knocking over the chair and sending the newspaper flying. “Nothing happened! Just-” 

 

“What about Harry?” Remus countered. “What about- what about…”  _ me. _

 

“We need you, Sirius. I can’t  _ do this, _ ” Remus gestured around the kitchen. Whether he was implying existing or raising Harry-or both- by himself, Sirius wasn’t sure. “Without you.” 

 

Remus didn’t know how to do this. Usually, it was Sirius angrily reminding him that he was loved and he had a place among this family. Remus didn’t know how to make Sirius realize how panicked he had been upon the notion that the latter might not have made it back home. Was he this stubborn when it was the other way around, Remus wondered. 

 

“I was so scared,” Sirius breathed suddenly. All of the fight left his voice in a rush and all that remained was vulnerability. “I-I felt like...like I was eighteen again and-and you...and I was scared I wouldn’t make it back to you, Remus.” 

 

The lack of nickname was the loudest thing in the room. His heart pounded in his chest. Remus gulped and said, “You’re safe now.” 

 

“Am-am I? Are we-?” Sirius covered his eyes with one hand, but Remus could visibly see his shoulders shaking. When he removed his hand, it was more unnerving to see that Sirius was not crying. Remus made his way to Sirius and pulled him in close. Sirius returned the hug with equal force. 

 

“We’re in this together, Sirius,” Remus said. “We’re safe as long as we’re together.” 

 

“I have three red!” Harry called as he stomped into the kitchen, leaving muddy footprints in his wake. Harry looked on in bemusement as Sirius and Remus broke apart. Sirius lifted Harry into his arms and placed him on his hip once the boy was close enough. 

 

“And I have one boy I love more than anything in the world!” Sirius declared. Harry held up one of his tomatoes in response, and Remus laughed. Standing there in the tiny kitchen, just the three of them, was safe enough for Sirius. And he wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is so unorganized and silly but im having fun lol. happy new year!!!


	7. We're Afraid to Die (That's Alright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s October again, and Remus and Sirius take Harry to his parents’ grave like every year. Then they get ice cream.
> 
> Fall, 1986 
> 
> song title from "you can't live there forever" by the world is a beautiful place & I am no longer afraid to die

When the leaves change color, Harry knows that it is about to be a sad time for Moony and Padfoot. The chill of October brought back painful memories for both of them. Harry only knew that October was when his parents were killed by the bad man who gave him his scar. Sometimes Harry would stare in the bathroom mirror and trace the jagged, white, skin there with his finger and wonder what life would be like if he didn’t have it.

 

Would his mum and dad still be around? Alive? He often wondered what they would be like. Would his dad have a Ministry job like Mr. Weasley? Would his mum cook a lot of food like Mrs. Weasley? Would he have brothers or sisters? Harry didn’t know what a mum was supposed to be like. Andromeda was cold when she needed to be but loving often. Mrs. Weasley yelled a lot but she was the kindest lady that Harry knew. Harry didn’t really know what a dad was supposed to act like, either, but he supposed Moony and Padfoot were better than any dads he knew in his life. Well, maybe Padfoot was like a mum in the way he worried a lot and took care of most of the cooking (Moony tended to start small fires and could only really use the stove to make tea). 

 

But regardless of Harry’s fantasies about his parents, Halloween was always tricky for the three of them. Harry didn’t grow up with the tradition of dressing up and going door to door for candy like other children. Instead, he would quietly watch Moony pace the kitchen and rearrange the things on the counter. He would ask if Harry was hungry, and Harry knew it was always a cereal or oatmeal day on October thirty-first (something Moony could make easy, Padfoot would joke). Padfoot himself would rise later than usual, late in the afternoon but never past four o’clock, and would say nothing to Harry or Moony. Finally, they would bundle Harry up in his warmest clothes and head out to the garden. Both Padfoot and Moony would take his hand and they would disappear from Wales with a  _ crack _ . It was routine. 

 

Harry didn’t like apparition. It made his head feel like it was being squeezed like a lemon and made his stomach queasy. They appeared in an alleyway in Godric’s Hollow, and both men began to walk to the sidewalk and briskly down the street. Harry swung his arms back and forth and Moony offered him a small smile, but Harry was disappointed to see Padfoot still looked stoic in his sadness. 

 

There were no people in the streets as the three made their way down the road towards the graveyard save for the stray group of children laughing with bags full of candy. The atmosphere was eery, especially with his guardian’s silence. Harry knew when they were there because he could feel Padfoot tense up and heard Moony exhale in that exhausted way he did when something was weighing on him. 

 

Moony opened the gate and led them all through to the graveyard. They passed the large obelisk covered in names, but Harry knew that if he stared at it just a bit longer than normal that it would transform into a statue of three figures: a man, a woman, and their baby. The Potters. Neither of Harry’s guardians looked at the statue that was hidden from Muggle eyes. Instead, they moved towards a double headstone covered in orange and red leaves. Harry crunched on the multicolored leaves with his boots as they made their way through the quiet graveyard. 

 

“Here, Harry,” Remus said softly. Harry looked at the gravestone. He had never known what the etched words said, but now that he knew how to read, he studied the sentence hard. 

 

“The...last…” Harry muttered under his breath. Then, louder, “Moony, what’s that say?” 

 

Remus knelt down on one knee so that he was level with Harry. Harry thought he looked very sad. He put an arm around Harry and said finally, “It says, ‘ _ the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death _ .’” 

 

“Oh,” Harry deadpanned. Remus stood back to his full height. Harry put his mittened hand on the cold stone and started, “Hello, Mum and Dad. Moony and Padfoot brought me.” 

 

Remus spared a glance at Sirius and noticed his blank expression as he stared out at the other headstones in the plot. Reaching over, Remus took Sirius’s trembling hand and squeezed it. Sirius inhaled deeply and focused his attention back on Harry, who was rambling on about the garden he had grown that spring and the stray cat that Padfoot told him to stop feeding. 

 

“Um, do you think they miss me?” Harry asked suddenly. 

 

“Oh, Harry,” Remus smiled sadly. “Harry, they would have given anything to see you grow up. They would be so proud of you.” 

 

“Do you miss them?” he asked in a quieter tone. 

 

Sirius squatted down so he was looking right into Harry’s eyes. An old friend’s eyes. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss your parents, Harry. Your dad was my brother. And your mum was the kindest woman I’ve ever met.” 

 

Harry looked at his boots, his glasses sliding down his nose. Harry didn’t understand the feelings within him. Moony and Padfoot had known his parents longer than he had, but Harry still missed them terribly. He didn’t know how he could miss people he barely got to meet. 

“Are you alright, Harry?” Remus asked. He placed a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder. 

 

“Can…” he began. Both men watched him intently for the rest of his sentence. “Can we go get ice cream?” 

 

Sirius burst out laughing and Remus scoffed in amusement. 

 

“In October? You’re mad, Sprog,” Sirius grinned. He stood back up and lifted Harry up into his arms to squeeze him tightly before letting the boy rest on his hip. “Stop growing, you.” 

 

“I can’t!” Harry insisted. 

 

“Ice cream, then?” Remus said with a smile as he ruffled Harry’s hair. 

 

“Yeah!” Harry crowed. 

  
  


-

  
  


“...and there was that one time your dad and Moony-” 

 

“Not that one!” Remus protested with a laugh. Harry licked at his ice cream cone as Moony and Padfoot told him stories about his parents from Hogwarts. Mostly, they were about all the trouble they would get up to in the castle halls with his dad and silly jokes his mum would tell Remus sometimes. The ice cream shop they were at had dyed their vanilla flavor orange for the holiday, and so there they sat on the front curb with three orange ice cream cones. 

 

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Sirius grinned wickedly. 

 

“I know it’s the one involving greenhouse three and the niffler,” Remus replied. “And we’re in the company of impressionable ears.” 

 

Sirius leaned over and took a bite out of Remus’s ice cream. “You have your own, heathen,” was lost under Harry’s squawk of protest.  

 

“Padfoot, you’ll get a brain freeze!” Harry exclaimed. 

 

“Oh, Harry, there’s nothing to freeze in there,” Remus said with a straight face. His composure broke when Sirius gaped at him, and he dissolved into laughter as Sirius shoved at his shoulder. As Harry sat eating his ice cream with the two people he loved most in the world, he decided that this Halloween was not as bad as the ones in the past. Maybe this is what healing looked like. 

  
  



	8. Now That Our Hearts Have Taken Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Remus argue about the recently created Wolfsbane, and then they talk about what they’re doing. Harry and Remus discuss scars. 
> 
> Song “the water’s wide” by seawolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is based off that one tumblr post??? Idk it’s gone forever in the void but credits to that post where harry and remus talk about scars.
> 
>  
> 
> summer - 1987

“ _Because_ , Sirius, it’s expensive and-”

 

“Can’t you just let me do this for you and stop being so bloody stubborn about it?!” Sirius yelled back, a stark contrast to Remus’s stern and irritated voice that floated from the kitchen to where Harry had paused on the stairs that morning. Lately, the seven year old had noticed, Moony and Padfoot had been arguing a lot about...a potion? Harry didn’t understand why they didn’t just brew it in the cauldron they kept by the stove.

 

“Stop yelling, you’ll wake Harry-”

 

“I’m not- you’re just so difficult, Remus. It’s like you _want_ to be in constant pain-” Sirius continued. Harry inched down the stairs and closer to the kitchen door. “I’m so sick of you not thinking you’re worth-”

 

“This has nothing to do-”

 

“You and your _fucking pride-_ ”

 

“Harry.” Remus said suddenly in a weak voice, noticing the boy in the doorway with his sleepy demeanor of having just woken up and the messier than usual black hair to prove it. “Harry, we’re sorry, you weren’t meant to hear us rowing-”

 

“Nothing to worry about, Sprog,” Sirius said, adopting a happy facade for Harry’s sake and moving to the counter. He began pulling ingredients in their respectful jars down. “Was just about to make pancakes! Hungry?”

 

Harry nodded, still shy in the aftermath of their argument. Remus sighed and put the kettle on, his muscles tense and his head pounding already without the added stress of Sirius pressing a topic Remus had thought he had been clear about. Harry sat down at the table and watched Remus closely.

 

“Why can you not make it in the cauldron?” Harry asked. Sirius looked pointedly at Remus, who discretely rolled his eyes before putting on a mature persona for Harry. He sat across from Harry at the table and sighed.

 

“It’s...complicated, Harry.”

 

“Moony’s being silly, Haz,” Sirius said from the stove. Remus clenched his hands into fists on his lap but said nothing. “It would help. Moony wouldn’t be as ill every month.”

 

“Sirius,” Remus said in warning. Harry recognized it as Remus’s no-nonsense voice, and he became worried for Sirius’s sake. “We’ll discuss it later.”

 

Sirius dropped the whisk he was using to mix the ingredients and it clattered against the glass bowl loudly. He turned to glare at Remus and shook his head, like he was stopping himself from arguing further. “I just don’t understand-”

 

“You always need the last word,” Remus cut in. “I said we’d discuss it later.”

 

“Who died and made you the Queen of England-” Sirius muttered under his breath as he began pouring the batter into a pan. Remus was about to snap that he was _Welsh_ , thank you very much, when Harry spoke up.

 

“Are you going to be ill again?” He asked. Remus visibly stilled in his movements and sighed. He looked at Harry and offered a small smile, but even the seven year old could see how much sadness it held.

 

“Yes, Harry,” Remus said. “You’ll be going to visit ‘Dora and Mr. and Mrs. Tonks in a few days.”

 

That sent a small thrill through Harry. He only stayed with the Tonkses if the Weasley’s couldn’t watch him. He was pretty sure George had a case of Dragon Pox, and Fred probably wasn’t too far behind. Besides, he liked visiting with ‘Dora. She always had fun stories of Hogwarts to share and morphed her face into funny shapes that made him laugh. Last time he was over, she had perfected turning her nose into a pig snout, much to Ted’s amusement and Andromeda’s chagrin.

 

There was a rather loud _clank_ on the table from Sirius setting the platter of pancakes down slightly too hard. Remus stared levelly at him and stood to get Harry a plate and utensil. Sirius looked at the boy and offered a tired smile.

 

“How’d you sleep, Sprog?”

 

“I slept okay,” Harry said as Remus set a plate, fork, and knife down in front of him. Sirius busied himself putting a pancake down on Harry’s plate and cutting it into bite-sized pieces for him. Harry suddenly looked lost in thought. “I dreamed the green light again.”

 

Both men paused and shared a look. Lately, Harry had been having dreams where he told them he saw a flash of green light. They had told Minerva, and she said with a heavy tone that it was probably a buried memory from that Halloween years ago. They had, of course, explained to Harry as delicately as they could how his parents died, but each time he told them he dreamt about the “green light” again, it was like a new wave of grief hitting them.

 

“How about tonight you take some of that potion Minnie left us?” Sirius said after a moment, referring to the dreamless sleep potion in the vial on the kitchen counter. 

 

Harry giggled, “Padfoot, she doesn’t like you calling her Minnie!”

 

Remus chuckled and raised an eyebrow when Sirius looked his way, as if to say _he’s not wrong_. Sirius laughed, though, and said, “I’ve called her that since she was my professor in school. Me ‘n your dad would call her that. Moony not so much.”

 

“I would dissolve under that look of fury,” Remus said. “Rather not risk it.”

 

-

  


“So,” Sirius said once Harry had taken the toy broom he had gotten last week for his birthday outside to the garden and the breakfast mess had been cleared away. “You said later.”

 

“Not now, please-”

 

“Remus,” Sirius insisted. Remus met Sirius’s eyes reluctantly across the kitchen. He looked tired, fuzzy, gaunt. Like a ghost poised to fade out of existence at any moment. “Please just do this...for Harry if not me.”

 

Remus shook his head and rested his chin on his closed fist while his freshly brewed cup of tea wafted steam from the table. “For you?”

 

“For Harry,” Sirius repeated and tried to ignore the squirming in his stomach at Remus’s gaze.

 

“Sirius, I just-” he began.

 

“Merlin, here we go again with the expenses, Remus, I’ve told you-”

 

“I was _alone_ ,” Remus said harshly enough that Sirius stopped speaking. “Lily and James. I-I hadn’t seen them for weeks before- and you. I couldn’t believe it could be anyone other than you to betray them-”

 

“I would have died-”

 

“Well, I know that now, Sirius, but before…” Remus’s hands were trembling, but his face was determined. “It was so easy to blame you. And I was alone. I can’t help but think...I can’t help but wonder, what if that happens again?”

 

Sirius gaped, but was silent for a moment before he spoke, “Remus, something like that-”

 

“I lost everyone…” Remus said.

 

“Oh, and I didn’t?” Sirius snapped. “I lost my _brother_! I-I lost you-”

 

“I just do not want to become dependant again, Sirius,” Remus said. “I don’t…”

 

“Where do you think I’m going?” Sirius asked. He crossed the kitchen and sat so that he was in the chair beside Remus with a stern look on his face. Remus sighed shakily but didn’t look up to meet Sirius’s eyes.

 

“Hey,” Sirius said and placed a finger under Remus’s chin to tilt his face towards his own. There was a silence, and all that could be heard was their breathing and Harry’s occasional laughter from outside. Remus was so close to him, Sirius thought with an erratically beating heart, that he could see the gold that flecked his amber eyes. A bit of wild shining through. He hadn’t been this close enough to observe Remus’s eyes in years. When Remus glanced down to Sirius’s lips, Sirius took the chance and leaned in.

 

He supposed he guessed right when Remus didn’t flinch away and instead kissed him back. Sirius moved his hands to the sides of Remus’s head and kissed him deeper. He spread his legs and Remus moved closer, his fists bunching up Sirius’s t-shirt.

 

“Sirius-” Remus breathed against his lips. “What-what does this-?”

 

“Christ, Moony, can you not analyze something for five minutes?” Sirius mumbled. Remus let out a breathy chuckle but kissed Sirius again.

 

-

 

“Alright, the end,” Remus finished reading _Babbity Rabbity_ to Harry and closed the book. Harry was sitting between Remus’s legs on he and Sirius’s bed in his snitch-printed pajamas. Remus let out a large yawn and set the book aside. Harry giggled.

 

“Are you sleepy, Moony?” He asked.

 

“Oh, very,” Remus mumbled. He rubbed at his eyes with the hand that Harry hadn’t suddenly grabbed.  


“Moony?”

 

“Yes, Harry?” Remus asked, his eyes still closed as he leaned against the headboard. He could hear Sirius banging about in the kitchen, likely trying to brew up the potion they had been arguing about earlier before they kissed. The more Remus thought about it, the more like a teenager he felt. He had been a blushing mess after Sirius pulled away when Harry came storming back into the house with a frog caught between his hands to show his guardians. They hadn’t spoken about it for the rest of the day.

 

“You’ve got an ouch like me,” Harry said. Remus finally opened his eyes to see what Harry was talking about. The boy in question was holding onto Remus’s hand and studying the old, white, jagged scar that stretched from the back of his hand up to his forearm. Remus couldn’t recall what moon he had woken up from with that great scratch since there were too many to count. He cleared his throat and gently pulled his hand away. Harry turned around to face Remus, his green eyes large and childlike behind his glasses.

 

“What’s that?” Remus said.

 

Harry simply pointed to his forehead where he had an angry, white, jagged scar that split across his skin.

 

“Oh.”

 

“We’re the same,” Harry grinned. Remus let out a quiet laugh of disbelief at how kind and wise Harry was at just seven years of age, at how this child completely turned his life upside down in every best possible way.  

 

“I suppose we are, Haz, yeah,” Remus said finally.

 

Then, Sirius entered the bedroom with one of Remus’s favorite mugs full of a steaming, purple, potion. Harry wrinkled his nose at it and made a gagging sound.

 

“Padfoot, that smells!”

 

“You’re right, Harry,” Remus chuckled, but accepted the mug anyways. Sirius watched on silently as Remus took a deep breath and gulped down the potion in two goes. Remus pressed a hand to his mouth so as to keep everything down.

 

Sirius took the mug back and sat down on the bed, “I haven’t killed you, have I?”

 

Harry’s eyes widened.

 

“N-No, _ugh-_ ” Remus began. “Have you got any water-”

 

Sirius conjured water into the mug and handed it back to Remus who drank it gratefully.

 

“Absolutely disgusting,” Remus declared as he finished the water.

 

“I guess we’ll see if it works later this week,” Sirius said as a reply. Remus met his eyes and scoffed in amusement. Sirius cracked a grin, and soon they were both laughing ridiculously at nothing. Harry watched on in bemusement, wondering why Moony and Padfoot acted so silly sometimes.

 

-

 

After a week longer of downing wolfsbane and feeling guilty and exhausted, the days were finally up and the moon would be full that night. Sirius had taken Harry to his cousin’s after Harry had come into the bedroom where Remus was sleeping and kissed Remus’s cheek, telling him to get well soon. Now, Remus was leaning against the stonewall in their basement, sweating and scratching at his arms from a phantom itch.

 

Sirius was pacing in front of him, and Remus felt like snapping at him to stop. But he didn’t. He just took deep breaths and stared hard at the gray floor.

 

“Can we talk about...the kiss?” Sirius asked suddenly. Remus, who was five minutes at the most away from transforming, glared up at Sirius.

 

“You want to talk about that _now_? When I’m about to tear myself to shreds?” Remus ground out through clenched teeth. “Fuck off.”

 

Sirius sighed, “Remus-”

 

“This is...quite literally the worst possible time,” Remus continued. He bowed his head as a wave of pain coursed through him. He took a shaky breath and continued, “I know it was a mistake, you don’t need to sp-spare- _agh-_ ”

 

“A _mistake_?” Sirius snapped. He was kneeling in front of Remus now and cupped his face with both hands so Remus was looking at him. Sirius’s hands were cool against Remus’s feverish skin and he welcomed the feeling. “Moony- Remus, I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen-”

 

Remus scoffed, “Please, don’t-”

 

“No, listen to me, you twat. I know I messed up a few times and I know our timing has never been right, but- Remus, it wasn’t a mistake. You’ll never be a mistake to me.”

 

Remus was silent and for a moment they just stared at each other. Then Remus let out a shout of pain and ducked his head away from Sirius, doubling over on himself. He gripped at Sirius’s t-shirt with white knuckles.

 

“Change now-” Remus gasped as the moon took hold over him. The cotton fabric of Sirius’s shirt turned to soft fur, and Remus didn’t need to look up to know that Padfoot was there now. Remus went through the process of the change, his bones breaking and reforming, but the moment when he knew he was about to lose his mind, something was different. He blinked his eyes open, and saw Padfoot sitting a few feet away waiting.

 

He was looking through the wolf’s eyes.

 

-

 

Remus woke up sore, but he was not bleeding or broken. Groggily, he blinked open his eyes and found himself curled up on the floor with Padfoot right beside him. The dog huffed in his sleep. Remus let out a groan and sat up, the movement startling Padfoot awake. Sirius was suddenly in the dog’s place, looking Remus over. Remus was staring at his hands in astonishment, as if he couldn't quite believe that there was no dried blood under his fingernails. 

 

“Moons?”

 

“I-” Remus laughed, his voice cracking with emotion. “I remember...I can-”

 

Sirius’s concerned expression broke as he grinned madly, “It worked, then?”

 

Remus looked up at Sirius, his eyes full of unshed tears that Sirius knew he was struggling to hold back. Sirius pulled Remus close to him, and with his face buried in Sirius’s shirt, he let out a loud sob that unlodged itself from his throat.

 

“It’s alright, Remus,” Sirius whispered as he stroked Remus’s hair. “It’s alright.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so rushed and,,,idk what im doing anymore tbh this is mostly just me procrastinating from the 54390 projects i have due this week ;)


	9. Every Minuet is a Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius finds old pictures. With Remus recovering from a recent moon, what’s a better way to pass the time than showing Harry what his parents were like at Hogwarts? 
> 
> Winter, 1988
> 
> Song “ghost to me” by youth lagoon

“Okay, there we go, Moony,” Sirius eased Remus down onto the couch in the living room slowly. Harry stood in the doorway watching with concern as Remus winced noticeably at being moved around, even gently. Remus glanced up sleepily and gave Harry a reassuring smile.    
  
“I’m alright, Harry, just the usual aches,” he said, his voice lethargic. Harry didn’t miss the way Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed. Remus in turn shot Sirius a look that conveyed  _ shut up.  _

 

“I thought the Wolfsbane was s’posed to help,” Harry said, finally speaking what was on his mind. 

 

“It helps Moony keep his human mind,” Sirius started to explain, tossing another blanket over Remus and tucking it around him, the latter too tired to say anything about it. “But it doesn’t stop him from transforming. And winter isn’t too kind to his old bones, either.” 

 

“M’not- I’m twenty-eight,” Remus protested weakly, but his head was lolling to one side and it seemed a struggle for him to keep his eyes open. 

 

Sirius shrugged like it proved his point. He looked to Harry in confirmation, “That’s old, yeah?” 

 

Harry hid his smile behind his hand, not wanting to offend Remus. But Remus seemed to already be dozing off on the couch. Sirius watched on fondly and moved Remus into a horizontal position so he was laying on the couch rather than sitting and covered him with the blanket more firmly. Sirius brushed Remus’s fringe off his forehead with the tips of his fingers, taking in all the details of Remus’s scared and thin face, of the freckles and blemishes there. He realized what he was doing and quickly stood and cleared his throat. Sirius looked up at a bemused Harry, who still stood in the doorway. 

 

“Right,” Sirius said and clapped his hands together. “Want to help me do something fun? Perhaps clear out the attic?” 

 

Harry wrinkled his nose, “Why would that be fun?” 

 

Sirius grinned, reaching over and ruffling Harry’s obnoxious hair as he passed him in the doorway, his fingers already knowing the habit from years of doing the same action to another messy haired boy. “We can make it fun, Sprog. Moony’s been meaning to do it for awhile now.” 

 

“Oh, well, I wanna help Moony,” Harry decided. 

 

“And not me? I’m wounded,” Sirius said dramatically and placed a hand to his chest as he ascended the stairs, Harry on his heel. 

 

“Wounded?” Harry asked curiously. 

 

“Like you’ve hurt my feelings,” Sirius mended. “But I was only joking.” 

 

“Oh,” Harry said. He followed Sirius down the hall to the end where there was a square in the roof and a string to pull down the attic door. Harry had never been up there before, and he was excited by the prospect of exploring a new part of the cottage. Sirius pulled on the string and a ladder fell down and hit the floor with a soft  _ thud _ . 

 

Sirius looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow, “Onward and upward, then?” and with that, he climbed up the ladder and disappeared into the dim attic. Harry quickly followed and peaked his head up through the opening. The only light came from the small, circular, window at the far end of the attic. It was quite cold with the winter draft, and Sirius said as much before casting a warming charm. The space was cluttered with boxes and dusty trunks. With a thrill running through him, Harry hurried up the rest of the way so that he was standing next to Sirius. Sirius himself was going through a box that seemed to be full of old textbooks. 

 

“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius chuckled. He turned to look at Harry. “I’ve found Moony’s books from Hogwarts. The swot.” 

 

Harry took a glance into the box, but he decided that Moony’s old school books weren’t as interesting as what else could be in the various storage spaces. Leaving Sirius to one side of the attic, Harry ventured further into the maze of dust. He had his eyes set on a locked trunk that was against the wall under the window. 

 

“Harry, don’t go too far,” Sirius called, and a startled Harry spun around too quickly. He knocked over a smaller box that was sitting on the stacks and a pile of dusty photographs spilled around the floor. “Oi! What’re you doing over there?” 

 

“I’m sorry!” Harry called back and set to work collecting all the pictures again. Sirius appeared in front of him and got on his knees to help Harry. 

 

“It’s quite alright,” Sirius said. “Moony’s become a bit of a hoarder, if I’m honest. Bound to happen….” 

 

Harry looked up as his godfather’s voice trailed off. Sirius was holding a picture and looking at it with an expression of sad fondness. He chuckled a bit and then looked up to Harry. Sirius turned the picture so Harry could see it. The date 1975 was scrawled on the bottom corner in someone’s messy handwriting. In the photo were two boys no older than seventeen sitting on a couch with their arms wrapped around each other both grinning and waving at the camera. The boy on the left, wearing the aviator glasses that were sliding down his nose, looked like he could have been Harry’s older brother, he thought, with his messy black hair, dark skin, and facial features. Their only differences were small things, but definitely the eye color. And the boy to the right-

 

“Is that you?” Harry asked incredulously. Sirius grinned and nodded. Young Sirius in the photo had longer hair, was sporting a leather jacket, and his eyes were outlined with black khol. 

 

“Moony took that, I think,” Sirius reminisced. “Gryffindor common room. That’s your dad, Harry.” 

 

“My dad?” Harry whispered. He held the photo a bit tighter with his fingers like he could will the photographed version of his dad into the attic with he and Sirius. Harry knew that he was loved and that Remus and Sirius would go to the ends of the earth for him, but that didn’t stop him from feeling some kind of emptiness his parents left. 

 

“Your dad,” Sirius nodded. He cleared his throat and began sorting through the other spilled photos on the ground. He picked one up and laughed heartily. “Oh, I remember this.” 

 

He turned the picture so that Harry could see it. Harry looked up, but didn’t set the photo of Sirius and James down. The picture Sirius held was the same young Sirius, but he had his arms around the shoulders of two other figures. All three of them looked happy: the boy who looked a lot like Moony, but the scar across his freckled face looked fresher, and the girl with auburn hair who was throwing her head back in silent laughter. 

 

“That’s me, Moony, and your mum,” Sirius chuckled. 

 

“My mum,” Harry repeated and took the picture from Sirius. Harry had, of course, seen photographs of his parents. Remus and Sirius had one of them from their wedding on the mantle above the fireplace, but it was like Harry was looking through a window into the past. Like he could learn more about the people he didn’t remember a thing about. 

 

“I know a lot of people say you look like James,” Sirius began softly, sorting through the photos on the floor and trying to push them somewhat into a neat pile. “But you’re more like the both of them than you know.” 

 

Harry picked up another picture, this one of his father and a shorter boy with blonde hair. They were outside by a lake, their trousers rolled up past their ankles as they waved at the camera, caught forever on loop. He had never seen this other boy, or heard stories about him from his guardians. He had to be important, Harry noted, to be in a photograph with his dad in Moony’s attic. 

 

“Sirius, who’s that with my dad?” he asked. 

 

Sirius looked at the picture in question and his expression darkened immensely. He took the photo from Harry and stared hard at it, like he was refraining from setting it on fire with just his finger tips. Harry had never seen Sirius look so stoically upset before. Usually, Sirius made his feelings very much known to the household. 

 

“His name was Peter,” Sirius said quietly. “And we don’t talk about him.” 

 

“Why not-?” 

 

“Let’s go check on Moony,” Sirius said suddenly with gusto as he stood up and pocketed the picture. “Grab a pile, c’mon.” 

 

Harry frowned, but did as Sirius asked and picked up a stack of photos. Sirius did the same, and then the both of them climbed down the ladder. 

  
  


-

  
  


Remus was just starting to blink his eyes awake when Sirius and Harry came back down the stairs from the attic. He yawned loudly and slowly sat up, wincing as some muscle in his back was pulled tight. 

 

“Moony, look what we found!” Harry called excitedly once he saw Remus was awake. Sirius halfheartedly shushed him. Harry jumped onto the couch next to Remus and climbed under the blanket when Remus held it up for him. 

 

“Careful, Harry, Moony’s still sore-” Sirius started as he sat on the other side of Remus. 

 

“I’m alright,” Remus assured. “Now, what’ve you got?” 

 

Harry shoved his pile of photos onto Remus’s lap and watched him expectedly. Remus stared for a moment at the top photo: he and Lily in the Potter’s kitchen at what looked like Christmas time if their hideous jumpers were anything to go by. He let out a startled chuckle and cleared his throat to hide his emotions. Slowly, he began to flip through the photos, pausing every time Harry pointed and asked who was in the picture. 

 

“That’s Dorcas,” Remus said when Harry put his finger on the glossy photo of the woman in question. She was sitting on a sofa, looking at the camera indifferently before her lips quirked up into a smirk and she waved. “We went to school with her.” 

 

“That’s Marlene,” Sirius answered the next time Harry asked. She was in the photograph with Dorcas this time, arms wrapped around the latter, both of them laughing. Both of them preserved in their youth in the darkness of war time. 

 

“Oh,” Remus said softly as they flipped to a picture of James and Lily in the Gryffindor Common Room. Both of them were asleep on the couch, James’ head on Lily’s lap as they napped. “I forgot about this one.” 

 

“My mum and dad?” Harry asked. 

 

Sirius nodded and rested his head on Remus’s shoulder. 

 

“Were they friends like you and Moony at Hogwarts?” 

 

Sirius snorted and whispered “friends” under his breath, and Remus shushed him, but he was hiding amusement of his own. “Not exactly-” 

 

“Your dad was a prat-” Sirius began fondly. 

 

“ _ Sirius- _ ” 

 

“I mean, your dad was...a little full of himself and your mum didn’t take to that right away,” Sirius grinned. “But she came around when he deflated his head a bit. And, whatever, Remus, you say a hundred swears before breakfast. Prat isn’t even that bad-” 

 

“ _ Anyways _ , Harry,” Remus interrupted loudly. “They didn’t start out as friends, but in our last year of school they were.” 

 

“Oh,” Harry said. He took the photo from the pile and stared hard at it. He didn’t quite feel...sad. He just felt like something was drastically missing from inside. A void not even the love Moony and Padfoot showed him could fill. 

 

“Is it nap time?” Sirius asked after Remus yawned again behind his hand. 

 

“Naps are for babies,” Harry declared as he set the photo down on the pile. 

 

“S’pose I’m a baby, then,” Remus said tiredly. Sirius kissed the side of Remus’s head and stood up from the couch. Harry stood as well, stepping onto the coffee table so he could easily jump onto Sirius’s back with a war cry of his own. 

 

“Moony’s a baby!”  

 

“Woah! Sprog! You’re getting too big for surprise attacks!” Sirius said, his voice slightly strained from an eight year old leaping on him. He better adjusted Harry on his back and turned to look at Remus, who had already fallen back asleep on the couch. He lowered his voice, “Why don’t we go start on lunch, yeah?” 

 

“Yeah,”  Harry agreed. 

 

The photos made their way back up to the attic eventually, and it never did get cleaned out properly. But later, when Sirius was tucking Harry in for the night, he saw the photo of James and Lily in the common room napping taped crookedly to the wall above Harry’s bed. He smiled sadly and kissed the top of Harry’s head. It would never not hurt. 


	10. Here You Come With the Tender Offerings (How Could I Ever Do You Wrong?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns about Moony’s bad days. Sirius helps Harry bake a cake. Minerva makes a surprise appearance. 
> 
> Summer, 1989 
> 
> Song “tender offerings” by first aid kit

“Moony?” Harry whispered as he poked at Remus’s back. Sirius had already left that morning on his motorcycle, and it was already late into the afternoon. Remus hadn’t moved from his bed since briefly waking up to Sirius’s loud clamoring as he was getting ready to leave, muttering something about going to the grocery store. 

 

When Moony still didn’t move, Harry climbed up onto the bed and rolled over him onto the other side. Remus made a snuffling sound in his sleep and blinked opened one amber eye that wasn’t pressed into the pillow slowly to look at the boy. Harry frowned. He didn’t think it was time for Moony to be ill yet, but he had seen this before. Padfoot called them Moony’s “bad days”. He didn’t move from bed all day and it was really boring, but Padfoot always said not to bother him when this happened. Today, though, Harry was running out of things to do.

 

“Moony,” Harry said again. “You’ve been in bed since before lunch yesterday!” 

 

Remus closed his eyes and pulled the blanket up over his head. Harry sighed far too deeply for a child of nine years old. He lay on his back close to the pile of blankets that was Remus’s body. There was the sound of bags being set on the counter in the kitchen and a shuffling in the hallway before the bedroom door was opened wider. 

 

“Harry, what’re you doing in here?” Sirius said suddenly from the doorway. He was taking off his biking gloves and tossing them onto the bedroom floor without a care. Harry knew Moony would say something later about it, but for now he still hadn’t moved. “Are you bothering Moony?” 

 

“No!” Harry protested. He sat up and bounced off the bed to the floor (jostling Remus in the process, and Sirius had to roll his eyes with a chuckle). “I’m hungry, Padfoot. And not for cereal!” 

 

“Well, we both know Moony burns the water for tea, Harry, so he’s a bit hopeless if you want anything more than oatmeal,” Sirius said loudly enough for Remus to hear, but he remained still. Sirius sighed as he ushered Harry out of the bedroom and shut the door quietly behind him. “And you know better than to bother Moony on his bad days.” 

 

“Sorry,” Harry said earnestly. Then after a moment, “Will he be better soon?” 

 

Sirius ran his fingers through Harry’s hair with a sad look on his face, “I dunno, Sprog. It’s one of those things where we wait and see.” 

 

“Like a garden,” Harry said with a nod. 

 

Sirius laughed, the crinkles by his eyes more defined, “S’pose it’s a bit like a garden, yeah.” 

 

-

 

Harry munched on his cheese toastie, minding his wiggly front tooth (Sirius had joked about tying a string to it and slamming a door closed to get it out, in which Harry had began crying and Remus scolded Sirius), and watching the door of Remus and Sirius’s room. 

 

“Padfoot, maybe if we bake a cake Moony will feel better,” Harry said. Sirius, who was doing the dishes by hand at the sink, paused and turned off the tap with a soap covered hand. Harry noticed he only seemed to wash the dishes the long way when Remus was having one of his bad days. 

 

“You want to bake him a cake?” 

 

“Yeah!” Harry continued. “You said he was sad.” 

 

Sirius shook his head and turned the tap back on, “He’s...not that kind of sad, Haz. It’s sort of like...being ill. But instead of your nose running, your head’s all wrong.” 

 

“Oh, we can just give Moony a potion?” Harry asked. He stood with his plate and brought it to Sirius, who took it from him and began washing it under the hot water. Sirius scrubbed in slow circles before rinsing his hands and turning the tap off. 

 

“It’s not that easy, Sprog,” Sirius said. “We just...need to be patient.” 

 

He thought of all the years he had not been patient with Remus. Patience was something foreign to Sirius, who was the dive head-first and ask questions later type. He supposed that was how he ended up in Azkaban after trying to kill Peter. Remus had a patience that he forced on himself, never really letting what he was truly thinking reach the surface. Sirius could remember many times in school when he would bounce around Remus’s bed begging him to get up or point out his weird eating habits, his own obnoxious way of saying that he cared. It had taken James, ever the mother hen, to bodily wrestle him away, tell him to knock it off, and let Moony be. 

 

“So, why don’t we bake that cake, then?” Sirius said after a moment. Harry grinned and let out a cheer before he began naming all the different types of cakes they could bake as he pushed a kitchen chair so it was against the counter. Sirius smiled fondly at Harry’s antics before he began to pull down ingredients from the cupboards. He asked Harry to get the eggs from the fridge, and he moved very carefully with them in hand to the counter. 

 

Sirius pulled out the old muggle cookbook from one of the drawers that had belonged to Hope Lupin and flipped to the recipe for chocolate cake. It wasn’t hard, since the yellowing pages had been dog-eared. In loopy handwriting in aged blue, the words  _ Remus’s birthday _ was written in the margins. There were notes next to the instructions as well, probably from trial and error through all the years. 

 

“Okay,” Sirius said. “Three cups-” 

 

Harry dumped flour into the bowl from his position on the kitchen chair and it flew everywhere, covering them in white. Harry even had flour specked on his glasses. 

 

“-of flour,” Sirius finished. He said in faux-exasperation, “You’ve gotta listen, Haz, there’s a precision to this!” 

 

Harry laughed gleefully and the two began the task of baking a chocolate cake. Sirius followed Hope’s recipe to the best of his abilities, what with a nine year old making a mess on the counter and floor with the ingredients. By the time they had stuck the cake pan in the oven, there was flour and other mix ins everywhere. 

 

“Can I watch it bake?” Harry asked as he sat cross legged in front of the oven. Sirius scoffed but lifted the boy from under his arms and moved him to sit in the kitchen chair. 

 

“It’s too hot in front of the oven,” Sirius said as he tossed all the dirty dishes into the sink to be washed later. Just as Sirius was pulling out his wand to vanish the mess with a cleaning spell, the windchime by the window began tinkling, signalling the wards placed around the cottage. A wave of panic swept through Sirius and he turned to Harry. 

 

“Go to the bedroom with Moony,” he said urgently. 

 

“But-” 

 

“ _ Now _ , Harry,” Sirius said again in a harsher tone. Harry, who wasn’t used to his guardians raising their voices at him, reluctantly left the kitchen and hurried to the bedroom. Sirius didn’t leave the kitchen until he heard his bedroom door close behind Harry. Slowly, Sirius made his way to the front room and to the door. The only person who knew of their location was Mcgonagall, and she usually owled before visits. Sirius didn’t want to think about what a random person turning up at their home meant. 

 

After taking a deep breath, Sirius threw the door open to reveal a calm Minerva Mcgonagall herself. 

 

“Mr. Black,” she greeted in her usual Scottish brogue. “Were you baking?” 

 

“Christ on a bike, Minnie!” Sirius exclaimed as he tried to calm down his erratically beating heart. “Why-what’re you doing here?” 

 

She raised an eyebrow, but said, “I apologize for not owling beforehand, but as you know, I am trying not to give away your location to Albus.” 

 

“Right, alright,” Sirius nodded as he ran a hand down his face. He stepped aside and Minerva moved past him into the kitchen where she looked around with an unimpressed look. 

 

“You were baking, then?” 

 

“Yes, Harry wanted to-nevermind.” Sirius sighed, finally coming down from his adrenaline induced panic. “Tea?” 

 

“Please.” 

 

“Padfoot?” a small voice called from down the hall. Sirius tapped the kettle with his wand and it began to whistle loudly. 

 

“It’s okay, Harry,” Sirius said back as he busied himself digging through the tea drawer and pouring Minerva a cup of tea. “You can come out, now. I’m sorry for snapping at you.” 

 

Harry did come out of the bedroom then with a groggy Remus in tow. He rubbed at his face with the hand that Harry wasn’t clutching and looked around the kitchen like he was in a sort of fog. 

 

“S’going on?” he mumbled. Sirius wanted to wrap him up in all their blankets and lay with him until he smiled again, but instead he handed Minerva her cup of tea. Harry hurried over and hugged Sirius around his middle tightly, and he returned the gesture. 

 

“It’s okay, Harry,” Sirius said again. 

 

“Hello, Mr. Lupin,” Minerva said. She took a sip from her tea and then looked to Harry. “Hello, Mr. Potter.” 

 

“Hi,” the boy replied shyly. 

 

“Well, shall we get to it, then?” Minerva asked. 

  
  


-

  
  


Soon, after two more cups of tea were brewed, the three adults were sitting at the kitchen table, the smell of chocolate wafting around. Harry clambered onto Sirius’s lap with a muggle coloring book and a handful of crayons and looked to Minerva like he was waiting for her explanation of showing up at the cottage unannounced. Sirius was also wondering her reasonings for the visit, though countless times he and Remus had insisted she could come without official secret keeper business. She did take them up on their offers for dinner and conversation, but that was usually met with an owl beforehand. 

 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Sirius broke the ice. Remus was staring blankly at his steaming tea and Harry had begun his coloring (he tried his best to stay inside the lines). 

 

“It’s...more of a warning, boys,” she began after a careful sip of tea. “Albus knows that I have your location, and soon it will be impossible to keep it a secret.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked. 

 

“Well, you want the lad to attend Hogwarts, yes?” she said like it was obvious. 

 

“Hogwarts?” Harry perked up. 

 

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” Minerva confirmed with a nod and a small smile on her lips. “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Where you will receive the finest magical education.” 

 

“She gets paid to say that,” Sirius teased. Even Remus’s lips quirked up slightly in amusement when Harry let out a ‘huh’ and Minerva rolled her eyes. 

 

“We cannot keep you three hidden for much longer,” she pressed on. “The boy is nine years old already. That’s two more years before he receives his letter.” 

 

“Oh, don’t remind me!” Sirius groaned. “It was only yesterday I was changing his nappies! But you’ll always be a baby to me, Sprog.” 

 

Harry squawked, “I’m not a baby!”

 

"Then why've you still got baby teeth to lose?" Sirius teased. 

 

“So what does that mean?” Remus spoke up before Harry could retaliate. Sirius sobered his laughter and got Harry focused on his coloring again before engaging back into the conversation. “Harry returning to the Dursleys’ isn’t an option.” 

 

“What exactly do you take me for?” Minerva said aghast. “I would never send a child back there, nor would I let Albus.” 

 

“Then what do we do?” Sirius asked. 

 

Minerva sighed, “You prepare.” 

  
  


-

  
  


After declining an invitation to stay longer, Minerva left the cottage. Remus was still sat in the same spot at the table sipping quietly at his tea. It had cooled to room temperature, but he couldn’t find himself to care. 

 

“Is something burning?” Sirius muttered. 

 

“Padfoot! The cake!” Harry cried. 

 

“Oh bloody hell-” Sirius swore as he jerked open the oven and smoke emitted from inside. Harry gasped at Sirius’s language, and Remus snorted at the both of them. Sirius shut the oven off and grabbed a pair of mits from the counter so he could remove the pan. Harry stood watching with excitement. 

 

“You’ve baked a cake?” Remus asked as he used Sirius’s wand he left lying on the table to vanish the smoke wordlessly. 

 

“You couldn’t smell it?” Sirius countered as he set the pan on top of the stove with a  _ clank _ . “Harry wanted to make it.” 

 

“For you, Moony!” Harry grinned. 

 

“Oh, thank you, Harry,” Remus said. “That’s very kind.” 

 

Harry moved across the kitchen and stood beside the chair Remus was sitting in. He placed his chin on the table surface and peered up at Remus, “It’s to help you feel better.”  

 

Remus nodded, looking embarrassed, “Cheers, Haz.” 

 

Sirius sat himself in the chair beside Remus and pulled Harry up onto his lap. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Remus’s cheek. Remus couldn't fight the small smile that found its way into his expression. 

 

“How about we decorate that cake?” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit mayhaps an actual plot??


	11. One Hundred Miles An Hour in My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s New Years Eve, 1989, and Remus, Sirius, and Harry celebrate in their tiny cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> winter 1990 
> 
> Song “vagabond” By caamp

The sun had broken through the fog earlier that morning and managed to stay deep into the evening. Though it was still cold, and when Harry breathed out of his mouth he could see his own puff of air like a dragon exhaling smoke tendrils, he still insisted he wanted to play outside. He was bundled up in his wool coat, Padfoot’s old Gryffindor scarf, and his Wellingtons as he stomped around in the muddy, out of season garden. All they had were winter plants that could survive the cold, like spinaches and other leafy greens. Harry had already expressed his distaste for such produce, and Moony promised him as soon as it was summertime again they would have tomatoes. 

 

“Harry, the sun’s going down, why don’t you come in, now?” Moony said from the back door he held open. He himself had the fluffiest duvet wrapped around his shoulders even though he was wearing the thickest jumper he owned. Padfoot always poked fun and said it was because Moony had old bones and was skinny as a bean pole, so he was always cold. Harry wasn’t sure what a bean pole was, but he trusted Padfoot. 

 

“Not yet!” Harry whined. 

 

Remus huffed, “C’mon, Haz, it’s cold outside. Padfoot’s making black-eyed peas and cornbread.” 

 

“Yuck!” 

 

Remus laughed and then adopted a faux-expression of conspiracy, “I think I heard Padfoot say he was also making hot cocoa...with extra marshmallows….” 

 

Remus stepped out of the way with a knowing smile as Harry bolted up the back steps and into the house. Sirius was by the stove, wearing one of Remus’s flannel shirts, stirring something with a wooden spoon and humming along to the  _ Fleetwood Mac _ record that was spinning from the living room. Before Sirius had lived with the Potters, he had no idea how to even boil water for tea. But once he ran away from home and into the warmth and loving environment his best friends’ family put forth, Mrs. Potter became determined that he learned how to cook. And since then, between take out and Remus setting toast on fire, it had always been Sirius to cook up meals for the two of them, and then plus one once they had Harry. 

 

“Padfoot, are you really making hot cocoa with extra marshmallows?” Harry asked as he approached the stove. Sirius glanced down at him with a bemused expression. 

 

“I am not, but would you like a cuppa?” 

 

“Moony lied!” Harry accused and pointed to the guardian in question, who was now sitting at the kitchen table sipping his tea and feigning innocence. “He said you were!” 

 

Sirius tutted and gave the beans another stirr before turning the heat down and setting the lid on the pot. “Guess we’ll have to send him outside with no dinner.” 

 

Sirius grinned when he noticed Remus’s amused smirk he tried to hide by take a sip of his tea. Sirius then took his wand from where he kept it in the back pocket of his jeans and flicked it wordlessly towards the cupboard. As Sirius began pouring milk into a pot to set on the backburner, Harry’s favorite blue mug and the hot chocolate powder made their way to the counter. Harry watched in awe as a cup of cocoa was made by itself before his eyes. 

 

“Careful, it’s hot,” Sirius warned as Harry grabbed the mug in his hands. 

 

“Thank you, Padfoot!” 

 

“Are you going to stay awake until midnight this time, Harry?” Remus asked. He pushed the chair across from him out with one foot so Harry could easily climb and sit without spilling from his cup. New Years was the only time of year Harry was allowed to stay up past his bedtime. Moony and Padfoot didn’t even let him stay up on Christmas Eve to see Santa Claus. He usually fell asleep around ten, though, but this year Harry was determined to stay awake the whole time and ring in the New Year. 

 

“Yeah, I will,” Harry said with finality. 

 

“I bet you fall asleep at nine tonight,” Sirius claimed as he sat in the chair beside Remus with his own mug of hot cocoa. 

 

“I won’t,” Harry sipped his warm drink. “ _ You’ll _ fall asleep!” 

 

“Hm,” Sirius hummed like he was deep in thought. “If you fall asleep before midnight, you have to give me all your Christmas candy. And if you can stay up ‘til midnight, you can...have cake for dinner for a week.” 

 

“Sirius-” Remus scoffed. 

 

“For a whole week?” Harry gaped. 

 

“A whole week,” Sirius confirmed. 

 

“Okay, but I won’t have to give you  _ any _ Christmas candy,” Harry declared. 

 

“If you’re sure,” Sirius took a conspiracal sip from his cup. Remus rolled his eyes.  

 

-

 

“Ha, he’s asleep,” Sirius stage-whispered. Remus glanced down and saw Harry snoring softly against his chest and smiled. “He owes me all his Christmas candy now.” 

 

“He’s nine years old,” Remus deadpanned. 

 

“He’s almost ten,” Sirius shrugged. 

 

“Yes, in  _ July- _ ” 

 

“What’s your point?” 

 

“He nearly lasted to the New Year. I also can’t believe you placed a bet with our  _ nine year old _ child.” 

 

The silence was heavy with Remus’s words, and Sirius finally broke it by saying, “Our child?” 

 

Remus gaped, “I didn’t- I mean obviously he’s not- well, I mean, he is, but-” 

 

“I understand, Moony,” Sirius said. He reached over and brushed Remus’s fringe from his forehead with his fingers. “He’s just as much ours as he is James’ and Lily’s.” 

 

They sat in a comfortable kind of quiet for a few moments, the only sounds were the faint buzz of the TV, the crackling of the fire, and Harry’s soft snoring. The lights from the Christmas tree cast colorful lights onto Sirius’s face. Red, blue, green, yellow. 

 

“It’s nearly midnight,” Sirius commented. 

 

“Have you got someone to kiss, then?” Remus teased. 

 

Sirius smiled, and as the people on the television began to count down from five, he leaned in and captured Remus’s lips in a kiss. The television people cheered, “Happy New Year!”. Remus felt a warmth spread through his chest. 

 

“Happy New Years,” Remus said in barely a whisper. 

 

“I love you,” Sirius replied. 

 

Remus couldn’t contain his grin, “And I love you, Sirius.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet :) idk what happens in england and i know google is free but my mama makes cornbread and black eyed peas for new years so what the heck lmao 
> 
> Another thing! I’m very sorry i never reply to comments i get very flustered and idk how to respond but thank you so much for reading and commenting it means a lot!


	12. While This is Still Who We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore reveals something neither Sirius nor Remus were prepared to hear. Harry goes to The Burrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer - 1990   
> Song “joik #3” by blind pilot

Sometimes Remus woke up crying. He would wipe his face and turn over in bed and pretend to fall back asleep before Sirius blinked his eyes open. Remus couldn’t always remember his dreams, but he could still feel them. He felt hot breath on his face, claws at his throat, blood on his tongue. It haunted him and crawled into his headspace. It lived in the crevices and the shadows of his mind and waited to be felt again. Remus never spoke about his time with Greyback, just as Sirius never spoke about his stay in Azkaban, and how neither of them talked about the fire and death and pain of the war. They both had Harry to worry about, and pancakes to make and scraped knees to heal. So these things were best kept under lock and key, demons in waiting. Some days the dark things in his brain would creep to the forefront, and Remus couldn’t move. 

 

“Hey,” Sirius whispered groggily, his voice bogged with sleep. 

 

Remus moved onto back and turned his head so he was facing Sirius: eyes like steel, black hair mussed from sleep. 

 

“I’m asleep.” 

 

“You weren’t,” Sirius smiled. He reached out and ran his hand across Remus’s chest and let his arm rest there. “I can tell by your breathing.” 

 

“Weirdo,” Remus said, his voice turning into a yawn. He chuckled when Sirius jutted out his bottom lip like he was pouting. Sirius pulled Remus closer to him on the bed and pressed a kiss to his neck, nipping the skin there. He laughed when Remus gasped and swatted at him. They lay quietly for a moment in the mid morning, arms around each other, listening to the morning birds outside, before Sirius broke it. 

 

“Did you have a nightmare again?” 

 

Remus sighed and maneuvered himself out of Sirius’s grip, “Harry’ll be up by now.” 

 

“Remus-” Sirius went to grab at him, but he had already sat up from bed and was pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms. Sirius groaned, but he got up as well with little protest. Soon, they had begun their morning routine of making a pot of coffee, putting bread in the toaster, and waiting for Harry to be up. Sirius hummed to himself as he put out the jam and bread on the table while Remus poured them both cups of coffee. 

 

Soon, there was the telltale sound of footsteps on the stairs, and then a sleepy voice calling, “Can I go to The Burrow today?” 

 

“Good morning, Harry,” Remus chuckled. “Can we all have breakfast before we plan our day?” 

 

“Okay,” Harry said. He was holding a piece of parchment in his hand and he set it on the table in front of Remus. “Ron owled me and asked if I can come to The Burrow today.” 

 

Sure enough, on the parchment was the sloppy writing of a child, with ink splatters and some parts of the letters too thick and others too thin. Sirius glanced at the letter himself and scoffed, “When I was his age I could write in beautiful calligraphy.” 

 

“Forgive him, Harry,” Remus said. “He forgets sometimes that we all didn’t grow up in the most ancient and the most noble house in all of England-” 

 

He shoved Remus’s arm on his way to sit on Harry’s otherside, “Sure, Harry, why don’t we-” 

 

Then, another, familiar barn owl swooped into the kitchen from the open back door and landed gracefully on the back of Sirius’s chair, looking warily over at Remus. It offered its leg to Sirius, who untied the letter and then in turn tore the corner of his toast for the owl. The Hogwarts school owl left without waiting for a reply and Sirius huffed in irritation. 

 

“Must be important, then,” Remus said cynically. He watched Sirius’s eyes scan the letter, noticing how his brow furrowed deeper the more he read. 

 

“Merlin’s saggy-” 

 

“Sirius,” Remus scolded and snatched the letter from Sirius’s hands to read it himself. After a moment, he muttered, “Shit.” 

 

“How is that better?” Sirius grumbled. “Don’t repeat that word, Harry.” 

 

“Okay, but sometimes Tonks says that word, too.” 

 

“Well, I’ll be tattling to her mum, now, won’t I?” Sirius teased. 

 

Harry grinned, “Padfoot!” 

 

“We can’t- I mean…” Remus trailed off after finally looking up from the letter, and he glanced over to Harry. With a sigh, he ran his fingers through Harry’s thick hair with a sad sort of smile. “How about we take up that offer for a visit to The Burrow?” 

 

Harry grinned, “Yes, please!” 

  
  


-

 

The letter was from Minerva requesting their presence at Hogwarts. It was a brief letter, letting them know that their position had not been compromised, but that it was urgent they make the journey. It could only mean one thing, and neither Sirius nor Remus were ready to face Dumbledore. Remus was afraid Sirius would deck the old wizard in his face, and if he was honest with himself, he was worried that he would do the same. 

 

They sent an excited Harry through the floo to the Weasley’s with a bag full of clothes and other things, just in case he needed to stay for awhile, and then planned their own journey to Hogwarts. Sirius was pacing in the garden while he waited for Remus to lock up the cottage and join him to apparate to Hogsmeade. 

 

“You’re gonna have to do it, Remus, I’ll splinch myself, I’m too full of nerves,” Sirius said. 

 

“Didn’t you get your license before me?” Remus scoffed. “You’re thirty, Sirius, I’m sure you’re more than capable-” 

 

“Remus,” Sirius’s voice was nearing a whine. Rolling his eyes, Remus simply offered his hand out for Sirius to take, and then with a loud  _ crack _ that rang through the warm air, the two men had seemingly disappeared. 

 

In Hogsmeade, Sirius and Remus appeared on the cobblestone streets near the Shrieking Shack. The town just down the way was bustling with business during the midday. Remus looked over to Sirius, who chose that moment to also look at Remus, and he nodded in a way that said  _ now or never _ . 

 

“Let’s go, then,” Sirius said and moved forward down the path. The walk up to the castle was strangely nostalgic. And while they were both dreading facing Dumbledore, they both couldn’t help but reminisce and laugh about Hogsmeade trips of the past when they were four carefree school boys instead of two men riddled with the plague of loss and war. 

 

Minerva was waiting for them at the entrance, and they both followed her into the castle, “Boys.” she offered, even at Sirius’s insistence that they were  _ men _ now, thanks. 

 

It was eerily quiet since all the students were away for summer holidays, but the halls had not changed from their own days as children themselves. 

 

“Haven’t been here in a moment,” Sirius joked. It fell flat as the three of them made their way to Dumbledore's office. The stone gargoyle moved to reveal a long, stone, staircase after Minerva had uttered the password. She stood aside and gestured for them to go ahead. Remus started up the stairs first, and Sirius followed closely behind. Remus raised a fist and knocked thrice on the wooden door, only for it to swing open after a gentle “come in” was emitted from inside. 

 

“Hello, gentlemen,” Dumbledore greeted from behind his large desk. He wore light purple robes, his half-moon spectacles, and watched them as they moved into the circular office. It hadn’t much changed since they were boys being called in for their latest tomfoolery, or since they had both stormed in in regards to Harry’s well-being shortly after Sirius’s release. Same knick knacks and magical objects lining the tables, the same portraits of the previous headmasters asleep in their frames. Remus noticed Phineas Nigellus Black glaring at Sirius, but the portrait remained silent. Remus remembered the last time he was called into this office during his time at Hogwarts: for recruitment for the Order. He could still recall the anger in Sirius’s eyes and the hardness of James’s expression as they declared that they were willing to fight. And fight they did. But at what cost? 

 

“It has been awhile,” Dumbledore continued, and he gestured to two chairs in front of his desk. “Please. Sit. May I offer tea? Or perhaps a lemon drop?” 

 

“No, thank you,” Remus responded and they both sat down in the chairs. 

 

“Well, how about we get right to it, then,” Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk. “I am not here to try and take Mr. Potter from you. Minerva informs me you’re doing a fine job of keeping him safe. Though, I did have my concerns.” 

 

Neither of them missed how his gaze shifted to Remus, who looked at his hands that were neatly folded in his lap. Sirius visibly clenched his own hands into fists, “What is it, then?” he all but snapped. 

 

“Are you certain you would not like tea-?” 

 

“Why have you called us here?” Sirius interrupted. 

 

“Sirius,” Remus said lowly. Sirius rolled his eyes, never having much patience for the guilt Remus carried around about how he owed Dumbledore everything. He had tried countless times to explain to Remus that he had been manipulated into thinking he was in debt to Dumbledore, when really all the old wizard did was offer Remus something he was entitled to anyways: an education. Remus would never listen, always shaking his head and telling Sirius he didn’t understand. Oh, he understood plenty. Sirius reckoned he had no room left for understanding when it came to Dumbledore. 

 

“Voldemort,” Dumbledore said suddenly. Both were taken by surprise when he said that name. Remus wiped his clammy hands on his trousers. “He made to split his soul into six pieces…” 

 

“Like...a horcrux?” Remus whispered in horror. 

 

“Exactly, Mr. Lupin,” he said like Remus was a student who had guessed correctly in class.

 

“But?” Sirius prompted, wanting him to reach his point already. Dumbledore smiled thinly and Sirius had a sinking feeling. 

 

“When Voldemort cast the killing spell, a bit of his soul attached to Harry’s,” Dumbledore said suddenly in his infuriatingly calm voice. “Creating the seventh piece.” 

 

In the dead silence, Sirius laughed bitterly out of shock and lack of any other way to respond, “Sorry, what?” 

 

Dumbledore didn’t reply, but he did move one wrinkled hand out to the desk and dropped a necklace onto the surface with a soft  _ clank _ . The chain piled around the locket. It was like the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. 

 

“What is this?” Remus asked. “Is this...one of them?” 

 

“Regulus Black,” Dumbledore said, seemingly ignoring Remus’s questions. Sirius looked up from the locket sharply. “You’re brother-” 

 

“What about him?” Sirius relented. 

 

“He was the one to figure out Voldemort’s plan,” Dumbledore collected the locket in his hand and placed it in the pocket of his purple robes. “He came to me one night, locket in hand, to tell me of Voldemort’s conquest, about how he intentionally split his soul into six pieces.”  

 

Sirius felt numb. He was faintly aware that he was shaking, “Where is he now?” 

 

“Voldemort? Why, an essence with no body-” 

 

“My brother,” Sirius clarified. His voice could cut glass. 

 

“You received the letter, I presume. He’s dead at the hand of those he kept acquaintance with.” 

 

“They-they said he was missing-” 

 

“Another lie told by Voldemort’s followers,” he said gravely. “Regulus Black visited me and told me of these horcruxes. I have been hunting for them since.” 

 

“And- and you’ve  _ known _ ? For- Merlin, it’s been a decade-” Sirius spluttered. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you  _ protect him _ ?!” 

 

Sirius ignored the gentle hand that Remus placed on his shoulder. He knew it was meant to be a comfort as well as a warning. But when he looked over to where Remus was sitting, he recognized that barely concealed anger poising to break free from those carefully constructed layers of calm. 

 

“I suppose I kept this information for the same reason you both are operating under the Fidelius Charm,” he said. “It all boils down to who you trust in the world.” 

 

“So you  _ let him die _ ?!” Sirius roared, standing from his chair. Remus stood as well grabbed Sirius’s arm.

 

“Sirius, calm down-” 

 

When Sirius moved forward like he was about to leap over the desk and strangle Dumbledore, Remus stepped in front of him. To fuel Sirius’s anger, the older wizard didn’t even flinch. 

 

“Sit  _ down _ , Sirius!” 

 

He reluctantly sank back into his chair, but his glare did not waver. Through clenched teeth, Sirius said, “Why are you telling us this? What could you possibly gain from telling us that Harry...” he couldn’t finish. 

 

Dumbledore nodded, “Yes, well. I do believe Voldemort will return. These horcruxes need to be destroyed.” 

 

“Voldemort is  _ dead _ .” 

 

“It appears I have not made myself clear,” Dumbledore said. “He will return. And when he does, I need men.” 

 

“Fine,” Remus said softly, but with finality as he ignored Sirius’s gaping. “You have us.”

Dumbledore nodded again, that small and secretive smile on his lips, “And now, I think, our meeting has adjourned.” 

  
  


-

  
  
  


“Are-when are we going to tell him?” Remus asked when the apparated back to their garden in Wales. His voice sounded forced. Cracked. 

 

“What do you mean?” Sirius snapped. He felt his anger explode in him, and he knew Remus was going to be a casualty, as he usually was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care at the moment. “You want me to tell Harry he’s a  _ fucking- _ a horcrux?!” 

 

“We can’t keep it from him-” 

 

“Oh, like Dumbledore kept the truth about Regulus’s death from me?” Sirius tugged at his hair. “Fuck, it’s happening again! He’s using us! Which one of us’ll be dead within the year this time, then?” 

 

“Sirius-” 

 

“He’s a ten year old boy, Remus!” Sirius raged. He adopted a sickly sweet voice, suddenly, to say, “Oh, Harry, that’s a lovely picture you’ve drawn, by the way you’ve got a piece of a murdering sack of shit’s soul inside you-” 

 

“Oh, for the love of Merlin, Sirius-” 

 

“What the fuck do we do-?” Sirius’s chest hurt. He couldn’t breathe. “And-and he  _ knew _ about it. He’s so  _ fucking _ smug about it- Remus, fuck, I can’t-” 

 

“Breathe, Sirius,” Remus was in front of him. Sirius gripped Remus’s arms tightly and they sunk to the ground. Remus placed one of Sirius’s hands against his chest and exaggerated breathing slowly. “Just breathe, Sirius.” 

 

“Gods-”

 

“We’ll figure this out,” Remus said quietly. Sirius was still holding tightly to Remus like he was afraid to float away. 

 

“This isn’t-” he gasped for air, his breathing fast and panicked. “We’re not- figuring out what we should plant in the fucking garden, Remus.” 

 

“I know- I know, Sirius, okay?” Remus’s hands were on his face, they were cool and calming, callused skin on Sirius’s cheeks. His voice was firm and full of that anger he kept locked away. “But he’s still our Harry. He’s still our boy, and we made a promise. We promised James and Lily that we would protect him. So you need to pull yourself together.” 

 

Slowly, but as sure as a tidal wave, Sirius’s breathing returned to normal. For a long while, they just sat on the ground in their garden. Sirius had his face pressed to Remus’s chest, and Remus ran his fingers through Sirius’s hair as the sun sank lower in the sky. 

 

“We’ll protect him,” Sirius agreed later when the sky was turning pink. “We won’t let anything happen to him.” 

 

In response, Remus squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face in Sirius’s hair, breathing in and grounding himself. Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’s middle and Remus pressed his lips to the top of Sirius’s head before letting out a long sigh. 

 

“Of course we will protect him,” he promised. “It’s what we’ve always done.” 

 

-

 

Harry returned home after having tea with the Weasley’s and after a day of adventure and fun with his friends. He came through the floo (he had insisted that since he had just turned ten, he was able to use the floo network on his own, but there was always an adult who helped him with departing), soot in his hair and a grin on his face. He didn’t hear anyone in the house and frowned. Where were Moony and Padfoot? Harry glanced around and caught two figures outside through the window by the backdoor. He hurried over to unlock the door and opened it. 

 

In the garden as the sun began setting, Moony and Padfoot were sitting on the ground with their arms wrapped around each other in a hug. Harry walked down the steps and called to them, “Moony! Padfoot!” 

 

Both of them looked up as if startled from their thoughts. Padfoot held out his arms like he was beckoning Harry to give him a hug. 

 

“Harry! How are the Weasley bunch, then?” 

 

“Good! We had a really fun day,” Harry told him. He came over to sit between them in the space they created after breaking apart from their embrace. Moony ran his fingers through his hair. “We played Quidditch, and had a gnome war with Fred and George, and we played in the orchard with Ginny, and we baked a pie with Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley came home from work and told us about a Muggle car called Ford Anglia-” 

 

Harry continued to tell them all about his day with his friends, content and happy with his two favorite people in the whole world. 

 

“You know that we love you, don’t you, Harry?” Padfoot asked suddenly. 

 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “And I love you, too, Padfoot and Moony.” 

 

He smiled, “You know that Moony and I would never let anything happen to you?” 

 

Harry looked at him with a bemused expression, “Okay,” he tapped his chin. “And I’ll never let anything happen to you!” 

 

“True Gryffindor, you are,” Remus offered. 

 

“I mean it, Sprog,” Padfoot whispered. He had that misty eyed look about him when something was truly upsetting him. Sometimes it was when he talked about Harry’s parents. Before Harry could say anything else, he was pulled into a tight hug against Sirius’s chest. 

 

“Padfoot! I can’t breathe!” Harry protested. Remus laughed. 

 

“Oh, just humor me,” Sirius grumbled, but he released Harry all the same. “C’mon, let’s get inside.” 

 

The three of them stood from the dirt and walked up the steps into their home. Even with the news weighing on Sirius and Remus, for now, at least, all was well. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: suddenly this has become an extreme au the cursed child has nothing on me. Also i can’t write a good dumbledore apologies.


	13. There Were Holes in You (the Kind That I Could Not Mend)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is starting at Hogwarts! Sirius is having a harder time with it than he’s letting on. 
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 10 - summer, 1991

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song “Always gold” by radical face   
> Song “You make loving fun” by Fleetwood Mac

They received the letter during birthday breakfast on the thirty-first of July. The Hogwarts owl swooped in through the open back door, dropped the envelope with the red seal on Harry’s waffles, and caused the boy to startle back in surprise. Remus flicked his wand lazily and Harry’s chair righted itself before he could go reeling backwards to the floor. Sirius jokingly offered the owl a sip of coffee and it squawked in protest, only settling when Remus tore a bit of toast from his own piece and gave it to the owl to nibble on. When the owl was finished, it gave a final hoot and departed the way it came. 

 

Sirius plucked the letter from Harry’s plate with his index finger and thumb since it was dripping with syrup, and grinned as he read the address: 

 

_ Mr. Harry Potter _

_ Cottage in the hills _

_ Gwynfe, Wales _

 

“It’s for you, Sprog.” 

 

“Is it from Hogwarts?!” Harry exclaimed, snatching the letter away and tearing open the envelope, paying no mind to the stickiness. Remus watched on fondly as Harry held the letter tightly. His green eyes scanned the letter, seemingly reading it twice, before he smiled widely. Since he had turned ten last year, Harry had adamantly asked about his Hogwarts letter day in and day out. Both Sirius and Remus had explained that he would receive it when he turned eleven, and all week before this morning, Harry had sat by the window searching the skies for an owl. 

 

“We’re very proud of you, Harry,” Remus said. 

 

“We can go to Diagon Alley? And go to all the wizard shops? And maybe we can go with Ron, because he’ll be going to Hogwarts, too, and the twins, and maybe Ginny can come, too. And maybe I can get an owl? So I can write you both letters-” 

 

“Woah, woah, Haz! Slow down,” Sirius chuckled. “Why don’t we finish breakfast before we talk school, alright?” 

  
  


-

 

The full moon fell the week after Harry’s birthday, and so the family had to wait until Remus was recovered enough to make the journey to Diagon Alley via floo. Sirius hovered as they made their way down the street crowded with wizards until Remus said in a stern voice that he was fine and they should focus on not losing Harry in the throng of people. This proved challenging, as Harry became excited and wound begin to bound away towards whatever had caught his eye before Sirius or Remus grabbed hold of the back of his shirt and told him to wait. 

 

“Alright let’s get the swotty things out of the way first, then onto the cooler stuff,” Sirius said as they entered Flourish and Blotts. The noise from the outside crowd faded out and the quieter atmosphere of the bookshop was welcome. 

 

“So, it’s swotty now to need books for your education?” Remus replied as he removed the booklist from his coat pocket. He waited for Sirius’s answer as he scanned the neat penmanship. 

 

“‘Course not,” Sirius said when Harry also looked to him. “Books are very important. I only meant looking at owls and the likes. Maybe you could get a lizard-” 

 

“That’s not practical-” Remus interrupted. 

 

“ _ You’re _ not practical-” Sirius retorted childishly. 

 

“I could really get my own owl?” Harry asked with a grin. The same grin James had when he talked about flying, or putting a herd of pygmy puffs in the first floor girls’ toilets. It was excited and full of life. 

 

Remus smiled, “Of course, Harry. How else will you send your post?” 

 

-

 

They ended up finding a white, snowy, owl for Harry who he named Hedwig. Sirius chuckled when he looked back at Harry for the countless time to find him talking softly to his new pet. Hedwig hooted as if responding from her cage. After a long day of shopping for supplies the family was exhausted. Sirius couldn’t wait to take off his jeans and fall into bed with Remus for a long nap, and he could tell that was how Remus was feeling as well. He looked pale and tired, his eyes heavier lidded than usual. Sirius knew it was because of the recent moon, but it still made him angry and the injustice of it all. 

 

When Harry looked back, though, Remus adopted a happy expression and ushered the boy towards the floo once they entered The Leaky Cauldron again. As Remus was helping Harry floo back home, Sirius was hit suddenly with a pang of anxiety. Soon, Harry would be off to Hogwarts for most of the year. He was growing up, and soon he would be old enough to learn the truth about everything Dumbledore and his guardians had been keeping from him. Soon, he would be old enough that he wouldn’t need his Padfoot or his Moony anymore. Sirius was even anxious about the prospect of being alone with Remus. Sirius felt that Harry acted as a sort of shared love they could function around, like their sun. What would happen to them when he was away? Would they fall out of orbit? 

 

“Sirius?” Remus said with a bemused tone as he stood by the fireplace. “Are you coming, or would you rather spend the night here?” 

 

Sirius took him in: worn, soft eyes, lips quirked in amusement, warm expression. Sirius couldn’t help the fond smile that found its way onto his face. They would be fine. 

 

-

 

August rolled around faster than Sirius could anticipate, but of course the days had dragged on for Harry himself. He made this known by dramatically draping himself across the couch when Remus would be sitting there reading, or on Sirius’s lap when he was at the kitchen table, groaning about how Hogwarts was just too far away. Remus had stared at Sirius with a deadpan expression and pondered aloud who he could have possibly learned these antics from. All too soon, it was a few nights before Harry was scheduled to board the Hogwarts Express, and Harry was beyond excited. 

 

“Let’s pack!” Harry said one morning after breakfast, still in his pajamas, as he led them to his bedroom upstairs. Remus’s eyes widened at the mess Harry’s bedroom had become as he took a calming sip of his coffee. His clothes were pulled out of the drawers and were spread out across the floor, books off the shelves and in piles, his bedding from his bed stuffed into his trunk-

 

“Did a niffler have a panic attack in here?” Sirius cried, coming into the room after Remus. He took Remus’s mug from his hand and had a sip before wrinkling his nose. “Dunno how you can always take this black.” 

 

“Just like I enjoy my men,” Remus muttered with a shrug and took his blue mug back. 

 

“Is that so?” 

 

“Moony! Padfoot!” Harry said and Sirius cleared his throat and turned to the recently turned eleven year old. 

 

“Yes, Sprog?” 

 

“We’re gonna pack, right?” he asked, already throwing in a pile of his clothing into his trunk and shoving it down. Sirius sighed, but nodded nonetheless. 

 

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Let me just go grab something. Back in a tick!” 

 

Remus set his mug on the top of Harry’s dresser before sitting on the floor besides Harry’s trunk and gnawing at his bottom lip. Harry watched him warily. 

 

“We’ll have to restart,” Remus said solemnly. He chuckled and said, “This is just like when you were younger, and you used to try and take all your plushies with you to the Weasley’s.” 

 

“Well, I’m older now and I know how to pack,” Harry said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t need any plushies.” 

 

“Not even Snuffles?” Remus asked in a voice full of faux-concern, referring to the stuffed black dog that still lived on Harry’s bed. 

 

Harry frowned, “I-I mean I guess he can come with me. But I don’t  _ need _ him.” 

 

Remus smiled just as Sirius came back into the bedroom holding the record player from the living room with two records balanced on top. He set it up in the corner of Harry’s room and gently slid one of the records out of its case and set the needle on it. There was silence, then the upbeat tune of  _ Second Hand News _ filled the space. Sirius nodded his head, “Bow bow bow bow buh bow-” 

 

“He means it if he’s got Fleetwood Mac on,” Remus told Harry. “You should’ve seen him when this record was released. I believe we were...seventh years?” 

 

“Blimey, were we really?” Sirius asked as he sat beside Remus and Harry on the floor. “Lily and I used to duet  _ The Chain _ .” 

 

Harry perked up at the mention of his mother. “She liked Fleetwood Mac, too?” 

 

“She introduced me to them,” Sirius nodded. “Your dad wasn’t too keen on them, but he did like The Beatles.” 

 

The three of them worked on packing Harry’s trunk, Remus folding and Sirius finding random objects to act as a microphone while he belted the lyrics to his favorite songs on  _ Rumors _ . 

 

“Stevie Nicks won’t know what hit her-” Sirius began as  _ The Chain _ was ending. 

 

“I think you should provide her with financial compensation for the horrendous rendition-” Remus said, but was cut off with a laugh when Sirius threw a pair of Harry’s jeans at his face. 

 

“I actually don’t remember asking you,” Sirius said. Suddenly, as the intro to the next song on the record began, he perked up and grinned. “C’mon, Moons.” 

 

“No,” Remus said sternly. Harry stood up and began to dance his own steps to the song. 

 

_ Sweet wonderful you _

_ You make me happy with the things you do _

_ Oh, can it be so? _

_ This feeling follows me wherever I go _

 

Sirius mouthed along to the words and held out a hand for Remus to take. With an exaggerated eye roll, Remus took Sirius’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Sirius was smiling that true smile he only reserved for people closest to his heart as he danced around Harry’s bedroom with Remus in an impromptu version of swing dancing. Remus laughed loudly as Sirius tried to spin him and they got tangled when Remus forgot to duck under Sirius’s arm. 

 

_ Don't, don't break the spell _

_ It would be different and you know it will _

_ You, you make loving fun _

_ And I don't have to tell you but you're the only one _

 

If he closed his eyes, Remus could remember being seventeen in their dormitory while Sirius spun him around in the same fashion until he was dizzy and laughing. James would shout over the music to turn the rubbish off, and Peter would tackle him while declaring his own love for Stevie Nicks. Now, Sirius pulled him close and pressed a kiss to the side of Remus’s head. 

 

“Ew!” Harry cried.

 

“ _ You’re _ ew!” Sirius yelled back and grabbed Harry around the waist and tossed him onto the bed before tickling his sides. Harry laughed and tried to squirm away, Remus reminding them both to mind Harry’s glasses. Not a lot of packing got done that night. 

 

-

  
  


“I haven’t been here since we came back from our last year,” Sirius commented as they made their way through the Muggle crowd at King’s Cross. Harry was a few paces ahead, pushing his trolly and looking around the station with wide eyes. Remus smiled softly at the sight. 

 

“Molly said she would be here with the children,” Remus commented. As if on cue, the sound of Molly Weasley could be heard as she tried to sort her children and ready them for the platform. Turning, Remus and Sirius spotted her, holding Ginny’s hand and trying to wipe a spot of dirt from Ron’s nose while also telling off Fred and George. 

 

“Hiya, Harry!” Fred said from over his mother’s shoulder. That started the chain reaction of the rest of the Weasley's noticing Harry. Ron excitedly ducked away from his mother and hurried over to his best friend. 

 

“Oh, Remus, Sirius,” Molly said, sounding haggard. “How was the journey?” 

 

“Not too bad,” Remus said conversationally. “How about you all?” 

 

“Oh,” she offered a tired smile. “Never a dull moment.” 

 

After all the Weasley’s made it through the magical barrier, it was Harry’s turn. Remus and Sirius each grabbed a side of his trolly, and together the three of them rushed toward the seemingly solid brick wall. The feeling of magic engulfed them, and soon they were on the buzzing Platform 9 ¾ with the scarlet steam engine. 

 

“Alright, Harry, this is it,” Remus said, his hand still on Harry’s shoulder. 

 

Harry turned to Remus and Sirius, his expression of excitement giving away to real anxiety. He had never been away from them for more than a day or two. 

 

“Oh, Haz, you’ll be okay,” Remus continued upon seeing his suddenly changed persona. “You’ll make loads of new friends, and you’ll have Ron, and no matter what house you’re placed in, we’re proud of you.” 

 

“Even Slytherin?” he asked. 

 

“Even Slytherin,” Sirius replied. “Nothing could make us stop loving you.”

 

Remus hugged Harry first, and then it was Sirius’s turn. He kneeled down so he was face to face with Harry: green eyes always so earnest, a face like an old friend. He gave a thin lipped smile, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. 

 

“Write as often as you’d like,” he said. “We’ll see you come Christmas time.” 

 

Harry nodded, and then rushed into his godfather’s arms. Sirius held him tightly and only released him when the train gave a warning whistle, “That’s your cue, then, Sprog.” 

 

Harry boarded the train, and Remus and Sirius stood on the platform watching as it pulled away from the station. Harry opened a window and leaned out, searching for a moment before finding Sirius and Remus and waving to them. They waved back until the train was out of sight. Sirius continued to watch, even as parents and others began to dwindle from the platform. He couldn’t quite believe James and Lily’s son was off to Hogwarts in a world where they didn’t get to see that happen. 

 

“Padfoot?” Remus said, his hand coming to rest on Sirius’s shoulder. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Let’s go home.” 

 

Sirius couldn’t agree more.  

  
  



	14. Let Me Come Home (Home is Wherever I'm With You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is back from Hogwarts, and after a near death experience, it’s time to plant the garden again. 
> 
> summer, 1992 
> 
> Song “home” by edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros

Nothing had changed at the cottage, much to Harry’s pleasure, except that Sirius was noticeably furious. There was still dust on the windowsill over the kitchen sink, the plants on the porch step that sang _ Bohemian Rhapsody  _ when they needed to be watered, and the couch they had had since Harry was a small pushed against the far wall. But Sirius was quieter than usual. He would push past Remus and reply shortly to whatever Harry had to say. 

 

“He was just really worried, Harry. We both were,” Remus tried to soothe after Harry had come to him with his concerns. He looked exhausted as he sipped on his tea, and Harry subconsciously glanced at the calendar hung on the fridge and frowned when he noticed the full moon wasn’t for another two weeks. 

 

Harry noticed the quiet whispering Sirius and Remus would do when they thought he wasn’t around to hear them. When they suspected he was listening, they would move outside or to another room, but Harry wasn’t stupid. He told them as much at dinner one evening. 

 

“No one said you were, Harry,” Sirius said curtly. 

 

“Sirius,” Remus set down his fork on the table. His food was barely touched. “Just tell him.” 

 

“Tell me what?” Harry pressed. Sirius glared at Remus and stabbed at a potato with unnecessary force. “Tell me  _ what _ ?” 

 

“Harry, sorry, Moony seems to have forgotten what we discussed,” Sirius said passively, but his voice was dripping with aggression. 

 

“I’m not a baby!” Harry shouted. Remus didn’t look up, but Sirius met Harry’s glare steadily. “My professor died by _touching_ _me_ and so I think I can handle whatever you have to say!”

 

Harry was mortified by the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. Remus covered his mouth with one hand and stared hard at the table. Sirius had yet to speak, but his stubbornness had not wavered. 

 

“Harry-” Remus began. 

 

“You’re not a baby,” Sirius agreed, cutting off whatever Remus was about to say. “But you’re still not old enough-” 

 

Harry dropped his fork loudly and it clattered on the plate as he stood up and stormed away from the kitchen and up the stairs. His heavy footsteps could be heard stomping until his bedroom door slammed shut. Sirius sighed and put his face into his hands. 

 

“-to understand,” he finished uselessly. “What the fuck?” 

 

“Are you asking generally or am I supposed to answer?” Remus said sarcastically. It rang hollow, though. 

 

“I suppose a bit of both,” Sirius raised his head and fixed Remus with a scornful look. “We agreed we were not going to tell him-” 

 

“We did not  _ agree _ to anything, Sirius, as I recall, you just yelled over me until I relented,” Remus retaliated. “And, I don’t know if your mother ever taught you anything about values and morals, but that’s no way to have a civil conversation.” 

 

“Don’t fucking drag my family up when you can’t think of a snappy enough response, Remus, you utter tit,” Sirius spat. He stood and collected the dinner plates, moving to place them in the sink. 

 

“I think he should know-” Remus continued. 

 

Sirius threw the plates down in the sink and they shattered with a loud, intruding noise against the stark quietness the cottage held. Sirius rounded on Remus, “You think he should know? He’s barely twelve  _ fucking _ years old, Remus. He just witnessed Lord Shitbag himself possess that poor bastard, and you want to be the one to lay this on him, as well?”

 

“He’s not a little boy like you keep painting him out to be-” 

 

“He’s still just a boy, Remus!” Sirius yelled. “We all had to grow up too fast, but I don’t want that for him.” 

 

“I don’t think we have a choice.” 

 

Sirius’s look of anger crumpled and he put his face in his hands. He scrubbed at his face in frustration before looking back up at Remus, “I’m sorry.” 

 

“Sirius-” Remus protested. 

 

“It’s...I can’t do this with you again,” Sirius sighed. “I can’t go through another shit storm not trusting you. It ruined us. I need you.” 

 

Remus stood up from his chair at the table and made his way to where Sirius was bracing himself against the kitchen sink. He turned Sirius's body to face him and took Sirius’s face in his hands to press their lips together. Sirius’s body lost its tension and he wrapped his arms around Remus and deepened the kiss. His fingers clutched at the rough texture of Remus's wool sweater and held fast like he was afraid Remus would seep through the cracks and disappear. 

 

“I’m sorry too, but I’m not going anywhere,” Remus said when he pulled away. His voice was gentle, quiet, and only meant for Sirius in that moment. Sirius stared at a spot on the wall over Remus’s shoulder. “Look at me, Sirius."

 

He waited until Sirius reluctantly shifted his gaze so that he was looking in Remus’s eyes. Always amber, always steady, always there.

 

"I’m staying right here.”

 

"Okay," Sirius whispered. 

 

“I need you, too, Sirius,” Remus continued. “And we’ll get through this. We always do.” 

  
  


-

  
  


Kurt Cobain’s voice crooned through the bedroom door. Sirius didn’t understand “grunge” (Remus tried to explain to Sirius it was the way that the latter felt about Freddie Mercury, but Sirius merely clutched at his chest and said it was still too soon to discuss Freddie Mercury), but Harry had liked the sound of Cobain’s voice, and so they had bought the record for him for his birthday. When Remus knocked on Harry’s bedroom door an hour later, Harry was listening to one of  _ Nirvana’s _ angrier songs. After he knocked, the record player turned off and the song was stopped abruptly. 

 

“Come in,” Harry said. Remus pushed open the door and entered the bedroom. Harry was sitting on his bed with his arms crossed and pointedly not looking at Remus. 

 

“You didn’t finish dinner,” Remus commented. 

 

“So what,” Harry snapped. “Are you done rowing?” 

 

“Harry, there’s no need for that,” Remus said sternly. He nodded at the spot beside the boy on his unmade bed. “May I?” 

 

Harry nodded, and so Remus sat beside him and sighed, “Harry-” 

 

“Moony, it’s not fair,” Harry said. Remus’s eyes widened when he saw Harry wipe at his cheeks aggressively. The tears kept coming, anyway. “It’s not fair of Padfoot.” 

 

“I know,” Remus said. “Life isn’t very fair, no matter who you are.”

 

“Dumbledore told me about my mum’s magic on me,” Harry said suddenly. “That her love protected me from Voldemort.” 

 

“Yes,” Remus said hesitantly and nodded slowly. “That’s true.” 

 

“How come you didn’t tell me that?” 

 

He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed, “I’m sorry. You should have heard it from us. I suppose we just wanted to protect you as long as we could. I wish I could tell you something better, or keep you from all of this, Harry, but I know that I can not. Just understand, please, that it is because we love you.”

 

“I know,” Harry sniffled. “I love you, too.” 

 

“We’ll make it through this, Harry, I promise you.” 

 

Promising something as uncertain as staying alive to a child like Harry, who had already seen enough horrors in his short life, was dangerous. But Harry leaned into Remus’s shoulder, and Remus threw an arm around Harry and they sat like that for awhile and Remus decided some things were worth the risk. 

 

-

 

Harry was still upset that Moony and Padfoot were keeping secrets from him about himself, but he decided it wasn’t worth prying in the end, no matter how much he wanted to. Moony had told him he would learn the truth when he was ready, whatever that meant. How was he supposed to know he was ready to learn some life altering secrets they were keeping from him? How would  _ they _ even know? 

 

But, life went on in the tiny cottage in the Welsh countryside. The moon phases changed, and Harry stayed with the Weasley’s for a night before coming home and watching telly on the couch all day with Moony. Things leveled out with Padfoot, as well, and soon the two were back to playing small scale quidditch with only a quaffle on their brooms in the green hills. 

 

Soon, it was time to plant in the garden again. One whole day was spent riding into town on Sirius’s motorbike (Remus opted not to go so that Harry could ride on the back with Sirius. Instead, he wrote a list of what was needed). Harry and Sirius were in charge of going to the local nursery and getting tomato and pepper plants. Harry was well versed in muggle currency, thanks to Remus’s training, so he was there to help Sirius. Harry loved riding on Sirius’s motorbike. He had since he was small and they would go on small rides through the countryside, the engine roaring mightily. He loved the wind in his hair and the smell of Sirius’s leather jacket as he held on tightly. Sometimes, Sirius would even let the bike lift off the ground and they would sail through the clouds. 

 

When they arrived home, they found that Remus had already started to turn the soil and ready the bed for the plants. Harry found himself smiling, even through his irritation, at the familiarity of home. Harry went out into the back garden to help Remus plant, and Sirius brewed a pot of coffee even though it was getting on into the afternoon. As Harry was digging up weeds besides Remus, he felt something cool glide over his hand. Gasping, Harry drew back his hand and stared at the small garden snake there.

 

“Did you want to help at all?” Remus called to the back step where Sirius had taken to sitting, mug in hand. 

 

“Oh, me?” Sirius took a sip. “Not particularly.” 

 

_ Oh, those two always rowing _ , a voice said. Harry startled and turned to see the snake in the weeds that were currently being pulled. It seemed to be staring right at him with its beady, black, eyes.  _ It’s not healthy to row all the time, you know. _

 

“I think they were joking,” Harry responded. 

 

“Did you say something?” Remus asked. 

 

“Moony?” Harry began slowly in reply after watching as the snake slithered further into the garden. It seemed to slip by unnoticed by Remus. Harry was glad Padfoot was sitting up on the porch, since he was terrified of snakes. 

 

“What’s that, Harry?” Remus asked. He glanced up from where he was on his knees in the dirt beside Harry planting the tomatoes. He saw the expression on Harry’s face and grew concerned. “Something the matter?” 

 

“Can...can all wizards hear snakes talk?” 

 

“What?” Sirius called from the porch, looking over his mug of coffee as he took another gulp. His eyes were narrowed, “A snake?” 

 

“Harry, what do you mean?” Remus asked. He took off his gardening gloves and wiped his sweaty palms on the dirty denim of his jeans. “You’ve heard snakes speaking to you?” 

 

“The snake, just there,” Harry pointed to the tall grasses it had disappeared into. “He said you two row all the time.” 

 

“That’s not- we do not-” Sirius spluttered. Remus fixed him with a deadpan expression, as if to say,  _ that’s what you’re choosing to focus on?,  _ which Harry thought further proved the snake’s point. 

 

“Um, Harry,” Remus said. He shared a look with Sirius, and Harry started to feel that anger that manifested after he found out they had already been keeping secrets from him. “It’s...quite unusual for a wizard to be able to...communicate...with snakes.” 

 

“Oh, great,” Harry crossed his arms. 

 

Remus offered him a wry smile at his sarcasm, “Don’t worry about it now, though.” 

 

“I wouldn’t mention it to anyone, Harry,” Sirius said, and added as an afterthought, “Not even Ron or that girl Hermione.” 

 

Harry frowned. It was just another thing that separated him from the other wizards he went to school with. Being the Boy Who Lived wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, he thought bitterly. People stared at his scar and whispered things, and he would always be known as the baby that survived the killing curse who's parents were dead. But now he had this whole other secret to keep with him that not even his best friends could know about. 

 

“You know,” Remus whispered conspiringly to Harry. “Not many wizards are werewolves, either.” 

 

Harry felt himself grin in spite of himself and handed Remus the first tomato plant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow who else used to blast nirvana when they were 12 and angry or am i just projecting lmaoooo who knows where this is going tbh like,,,i have a plot, but it’s just supposed to be snippets of Harry’s life had he grown up with Sirius and Remus raising him. I just always forget about details and plot twists when i write, apologies for this disaster!


	15. You Are Unbreaking (Though Quaking)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Harry is away at school for his second year, Remus and Sirius discuss Harry’s safety, and if they’re doing a good job at all of raising him. 
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter 13 - fall, 1992
> 
> Song “wasteland, baby!” by hozier

“Molly’s just owled,” Sirius announced from the kitchen where he was holding her letter in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. The smell of wolfsbane brewing on the stove wafted throughout the cottage. “She’s written about all the happenings at Hogwarts, since our wayward sprog has neglected to do so himself.” 

 

“Sirius,” Remus said from the living room (not bothering to hide the fact that he had rolled his eyes), where he was sitting on the couch nursing a cup of tea and trying not to nod off. The moon would be full that night, and Remus was in no mood for Sirius’s attitudes. Though, he did have a point about Harry failing to write during the school year, and it was already nearing the end of October. “Maybe he’s been busy with his studies.” 

 

“Quick to defend the miscreant, I see. What second year is  _ busy with their studies _ ?” Sirius scoffed. He was scooping the steaming potion with a ladle into a large glass. 

 

“Let’s read Molly’s letter, then see if we should be upset about Harry’s lack of correspondence,” Remus said and held out one hand for the letter. Sirius huffed, but made his way to the couch with the large glass and handed the letter to Remus, sitting on the other side of him and waiting. Once Remus had unrolled the parchment and set his tea cup on the coffee table, he began to read. Sirius watched Remus’s expression turn from merely interested to wide eyed and shocked. 

 

“What is it, then? Has he exploded the toilets like last year?” Sirius asked. “That bloody house elf causing trouble again?” 

 

“That was...a mountain troll…and no,” Remus said distractedly as he read. “No, Sirius, this...Hermione’s been petrified, and...there’s rumors that Harry’s the heir of Slytherin?” he scoffed. 

 

Sirius laughed, “Prongs’s child? As if. I’m sure he’s just rolled in his grave at the mere mention-” 

 

Remus fixed Sirius with a stern glare, “Can you focus on the real issue here, please? There’s some sort of monster going around petrifying students.” 

 

“Alright, alright, just drink your wolfsbane, Lupin. Let me read-” Sirius snatched the letter away from Remus to read for himself. He pressed the glass into Remus’s hand and Remus choked down the potion. He grimaced at the taste, but drained the glass and set it down empty on the table next to his tea. He then leaned forward to rest his forehead on Sirius’s bended knee with a loud groan. Sirius absentmindedly ran his fingers through Remus’s hair with the hand not holding the letter and massaged the base of his neck. “Oh, yes, that feels nice-” 

 

“This is hippogriff shite!” Sirius roared, and jostling Remus in the process. 

 

Remus groaned again, “Good Merlin, Sirius, please-” 

 

“When’s the kid going to catch a break, Remus?” Sirius sighed. He tossed the letter on the coffee table and leaned back against the arm of the couch. He spread his legs and pulled Remus down by the front of his jumper so that the other man was laying on top of him. Remus complied and rested his head on Sirius’s chest. He could hear his steady heartbeat, smell the same soap he had been using since they were twenty, and felt comfort in the familiar. At this point in their lives, Remus felt as though he and Sirius knew each other inside and out. They knew about all the secrets that lurk in the corners of their minds, between their ribs, and held in their palms. Remus closed his eyes with a sigh. 

 

“I don’t think any of us will be catching a break, Love,” Remus murmured. Sirius carded his fingers through Remus’s hair again and remained silent. Remus became worried, but then suddenly Sirius spoke up, albeit quietly.

 

“Do you think...have we done- I mean, we haven’t- are we doing alright? Raising him?” Sirius’s fingers paused and he let them rest in Remus’s tawny (and going gray) curls. Remus didn’t speak for awhile. His eyes were still closed. 

 

“What I think,” Remus said finally. “Is that we were handed a child at barely twenty-two years old and we’ve done the best we can.” 

 

“James and Lily would have been the same age as us,” Sirius protested. 

 

“Yes, but you know Harry was a...surprise. I think they would have fumbled just as much as we have, Sirius.” 

 

“They would have been amazing,” Sirius said. Remus didn’t miss the thickness in his voice. “Prongs would’ve been a great father.” 

 

The words that went unsaid hung heavily in the air:  _ We were all supposed to make it out alive _ . 

 

Remus sighed, “They would have, you’re right. But I think we have one thing in common with them, and that’s that we love Harry more than anything on this earth. And that’s the best thing we can offer him. It’s worlds more than what the Dursleys gave him.” 

 

“I guess so,” Sirius chuckled. “A werewolf and ex-convict did a better job at raising a baby than two muggles that seemingly have their shit together.” 

 

“Oh, they’re shit alright,” Remus muttered, which caused Sirius to laugh loudly. After Sirius sobered, Remus added, “All you can really do is love a child without conditions.” 

 

“Suppose you’re right,” Sirius agreed. “Speaking of conditions, how’re those old bones of yours?” 

 

Remus scoffed and mustered up enough energy to hit Sirius on the chest, “They’re fine, thanks.” 

 

“I suppose we’ll write him tomorrow, then, when you’re feeling up to it,” Sirius said. 

 

Remus thought about the question Sirius had posed. Were they good for Harry? Would these things still happen to him regardless of who raised him? Remus remembered when he had first seen Harry, barely two years old, for the first time since James and Lily had been killed. Harry had been too skinny, too small, and too bruised for a healthy two year old. So, Remus supposed, while their best would never be good enough to keep Harry completely safe, it was enough for Harry to know he was loved. 

 

“Of course we will.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very short filler chapter before we get into the Angst Years ^TM of Harry at school :0


End file.
